


Free my pain

by nutmeg17



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alcoholic John, Alcoholic John Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Bullied Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Child Abandonment, Confused Dean, Counselling, Dean-Centric, Depressed Castiel, Depressed Dean, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Forced Prostitution, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Heavy Angst, High School, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John is a Mess, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dean Winchester, Prostitute Dean, Protective Dean Winchester, Recreational Drug Use, Sam Ships It, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smoking, Teen Castiel (Supernatural), Teen Dean Winchester, Underage Smoking, forced counselling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:16:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 61,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeg17/pseuds/nutmeg17
Summary: What happens when the cut on Dean's arm, done to prove he is human, gets noticed by the school? They come to certain conclusions and Dean finds himself forced to go to the school counsellor. The young hunter has to play along or they will call John, only for them to find out that John is not in the picture at the moment and the boy's are living alone out of a motel room.During Dean's sessions he is forced to confront the doubts he has buried in his head over the life they live. He is forced to really think about his life and for the first time, to think about what he wants to do with it. Dean is forced to confront his pain. Pain he didn't realise he had, and didn't dare recognise before now.With the boy's alone Dean and Sam are safe to enjoy normality for once. Dean could now concentrate on; his brother, homework, providing and creating a home for Sam and a pair of blue eyes Dean keeps seeing when waiting for his counselling sessions, and cant get out of his head. Blue eyes belonging to a boy Dean found himself compelled to try to save and protect.Good things do not last forever, Dean knew that more than anyone. He knew it was only a matter of time until John returned.





	1. Chapter 1

By Friday evening Dean had had a bad week. Albeit not the worst, not by far, but defiantly not one of the best. One reason, was the hunt he was working on for the past fortnight came to loggerheads this week. Due to the fact he helps his dad with the family business after school, as well as looking after and cooking for both Sam and his father. Dean has been both physically and emotionally exhausted for the past three weeks or so. This also explains why he was falling asleep in class, not doing homework and unfortunately not at his best when it came to one to one combat. The hunt was a tough one to break, so he began the week with bags under his eyes and by the middle of the week, due to his secret ‘job’ he had to go into school with a bust lip and a minor black eye.   
Dean's confident cocky front at school meant his story about getting into a fight was plausible and no one questioned him about it, merely accepted it with a raised eyebrow or questioning glance. The end of his school week ended in a detention, luckily his dad was busy in the library on yet another hunt, a demon this time. 

So John didn’t notice when both Dean and Sam returned to the motel room an hour late. Somewhere deep inside, that fact hurt the young hunter to think about, though he pushed it away and refused to acknowledge it. He fell asleep in his clothes on Friday simply too tired to change.

However all of that he could deal with and put it down to an average week. What really tipped the scale to a shit week; was when he woke Saturday morning to the sound his worst nightmares are made up of, Sam screaming. He rushed to his baby brother’s side, holy water and salt instantly in hand and a silver knife in his waist band. What he saw near enough broke his heart. 

Their dad had Sam pinned to the wall by the throat, eyes darker than night as it smirked at the eldest son with his dad’s stolen lips. For the first time since he began to hunt Dean saw red, the ferocious passionate urge to protect the boy he brought up filled every part of his existence. 

Somehow, Dean will never remember the exact events, the demon was sent back to hell, John was unconscious and Sam was sobbing in the corner to afraid to let Dean touch him. Without thinking of anything but the need to make Sam feel safe he poured holy water over his head. He pulled out his knife, causing his little brother to immediately flinch, fearing the worst, but instead Dean pulled up his sleeve and without a moment’s hesitation sliced the pale already scar filled inside skin of his left forearm. Instantly soaking his arm with blood. The blade was silver, Dean was human. Sam instantly threw himself into his brother’s arms and cried for an hour before he settled down, and looked up to the guy that would do anything to protect him, his big brother. It was clear Dean has shed a few tears as well. He had attempted to piece together the events in his head and merely realised just how close he was to watching his dad being forced to kill his brother. Of course Sam said nothing about his tear stained cheeks, merely smiled in thanks and got to his feet to fetch the first aid for Dean's arm. It wasn’t until Sam was across the room that he was able to take his eyes of his brother, only to notice the absence of his father. 

Neither brother were aware when their dad regained consciousness, wrote a note and left the room, although there the note was, resting on Dean's pillow waiting to be read. He slowly got up and read it, 

“He’s gone Sammy.” The younger boy spun around first aid kit in hand eyes wide.

“What?”

“‘I’m sorry boys, I have gone on a hunt for a few days to give you space. Take care of Sammy Dean.’” Dean read aloud, “Son of a bitch.” The boys were silent for a few beats taking it all in. Dean knew John wasn’t exactly the best father in the world. He did know though, that the man did his best, but even Dean couldn’t reason with this decision, running away. Giving us space? What the fuck, Dean thought. It wasn’t until Sam starting disinfecting Dean's wounded arm did the sting bring the boy out of his thoughts.

“It’s okay Dean, we don’t need him anyway.”

“Yeah. All we need is each other, right Sammy.” They smiled softly at each other. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

 

If Dean’s injury was sustained by anyone else, or in any other circumstance a hospital trip and stitches would have been necessary. That is something however that Dean would never allow. If he went to the hospital every time he needed too, major concerns would have been raised long ago. If only for the cuts he did himself to prove he was human, he probably would have been placed inside some ward or something for his own protection. So Sam patched his elder brother up to the best of his abilities, which for a 13 year old kid was rather impressive, this was something else that Dean hated to   
dwell on. 

Not all of his injuries but the amount Sam has seen and care for; the amount he has cleaned and stitched up using whisky, a needle and floss, it was verging on disturbing, he sometimes hated this life for Sam. The elder Winchester dreaded the day that it will be the other way around and it’s his baby brother’s blood he’s washing away, his brother’s skin he’s stitching, his Sammy’s pain he has to witness. 

The incident of Sam’s near death experience wasn’t mentioned again, John leaving wasn’t mentioned either, the boys merely picked themselves up and got on, Sam with homework, Dean with dinner. As the teenager stirred the beans his mind was turning, anger for his father growing. It wasn’t that he was possessed, it couldn’t be helped. With their line of work is was always a risk, it wasn’t that he left. Dean has lost count of the number of times that John has left to hunt leaving the boys alone inside some dank dodgy motel. Dean was angry because he didn’t even see if Sam was okay before he left. He didn’t give the son he almost killed a hug, a shoulder pat or even a second glance before he hightailed it out of there. Dean didn’t voice these thoughts though; it would only serve to upset Sam, after what the kid had been through that day that was the last thing he wanted to do. He just sat at the table and watched Sam eat, thanking whoever was listening that he was still alive.   
Dean didn’t eat, he couldn’t. He was also too worried to sleep that night, which meant by Sunday he was back to being exhausted. So that was his week, it was a bad week. Unfortunately for Dean, things were about to get a whole lot worse.

 

Monday rolled around all too soon after a rather slow Sunday of attempting to trace their father with no success, even Bobby had no idea. It was a small miracle they got to school on time, after the alarm had no success in waking Dean, Sam took it upon himself to wake his brother. He felt a little guilty knowing how little sleep Dean had been getting, but they were on a schedule and he had no choice. 

Dean was sitting in English class subtly scratching the stitching on his arm, he knew it was because it was healing, that and the floss always irritated his skin but, needs must. 

He also knew he should leave it alone but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t until he was leaving however when disaster struck. After the bell rang, it was lunch time, therefore every student suddenly started behaving like hungry wild animals. He was walking out still itching his arm when some stupid asshole barged into him, causing his nails to go deeper, and in turn rip the fragile stitching. He bit back a scream of pain, knowing exactly what happened he made his way as fast as he could to the bathroom before he bled all over the school corridor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Dean hissed repeatedly to himself as he sat in the end stall pressing toilet roll to the wound in a fruitless attempt to stop the bleeding. 

He was in there for the majority of lunch before giving up and making an emergency call to the only one that could help him. Minutes later a panting Sam came rushing through the door he had obviously ran straight here.

“Dean?” Sam asked confused and speaking to a seemingly empty bathroom

“Yeah.” Dean answered from the far stall.

“What’s the emergency?” Dean didn’t reply instead he shot Sam a quick text saying; we alone? “Yeah.” Sam replied out loud after a quick look around, rightly sounding confused with a hint of worry edging into his voice.

The elder boy took a breath before standing and unlocking the door, he appeared to his brother as completely normal at first; it wasn’t until he was standing in front of his older brother in the middle of the school’s bathroom that he noticed just what was wrong. Bloodied soaked toilet roll pressed to Dean’s arm.

“What did you do Dean?” Sam stuttered out, trying to keep calm, but instantly panicking.

“Pulled the stitches.” Dean spoke through a half smile as if it was not a big deal, in an attempt to put his brother at ease. Despite the throbbing pain beating in his arm.

“Why?!” He demanded as he stepped closer and removed the toilet paper Dean was holding to it.

“Well gee Sam, I thought it sounded like a fun thing to do. I didn’t do it on purpose. Help me out here!” Dean said as Sam was checking over the wound, the bleeding had stopped but it was red and looked painful.

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Stitch it back up.” He answered like it was the sanest and most obvious thing in the world and Sam should know.

“With what?! We’re at school.”

“You don’t carry around emergency equipment?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Dean demanded, he needed Sam to be joking, if only for the sake of the prescription strength painkillers.

“Why don’t you?!”

“You are supposed to be the smart one.” Sam sighed looking around for something else to look at, he knew what his brother had to do, but he also knew he would hate the idea, but they had no other   
options.

“Look Dean, that looks bad, you have to go to the nurse.”

“No.” He shot back instantly, no one was going to see his arm and make stupid accusations. Or assumptions 

“Dean, it’s not going to get better on its own, you need some kind of dressing on it, at least.” Sam had a point but he refused to admit that, it was still a terrible idea, what would his explanation for a huge deep cut with dental floss attached to half of it be?

“And what will I say huh? Oh yeah I sliced my arm to prove to my brother I was human after my dad was possessed by a demon and tried to kill my brother? Yeah that will go down well.”

“You’ll think of something.” He assured his brother, which was true their whole life is made up of one lie after another. The bell signalling the end of lunch rang, the horrid screeching noise circled the   
room and the two silent brothers staring at each other, both determined for separate things. “Look I have to get to class. The bell has just gone, meaning there shouldn’t be anyone in the corridor so no one will see. Please.” And without warning Sam turned on the puppy eyes, Dean hadn’t a chance in hell to say no.

“Fine, just go Sammy. Get to class.” He smiled at his elder brother in thanks before leaving for his next lesson. Dean was left alone in the bathroom for a few minutes just to make certain he would be alone when he made his maiden voyage to the school nurse. “Dammit.” He muttered before leaving the bathroom.

Dean approached the open door, eyeing the middle aged frizzy ginger nurse, working at her desk, making notes on a student. Dean stood there unnoticed for a few beats before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention.

“And what can I do for you?” she asked with a curious smile.

“I need supplies.” He tried to be as vague as possible, not wanting her to know anything.

“Excuse me?” he could see the confusion etched into her sharp features, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Supplies, give me them.” She rose from her seat, eyes harsh as she tried to stare the boy down.

“Young man are you after drugs?” Dean got the impression this was not the first time this had happened, he was a little taken aback for a moment, before trying to explain himself.

“No, I need to dress my arm.” She visually relaxed at that and her smile returned. 

“Oh well sit down and I’ll take a look.” She said as she stood and opened the door wider gesturing to the chair next to her desk.

“I don’t think so.” Dean replied shaking his head, but stepping into the room anyway, promising Sam he would and knowing just how much he needed the dressings or it would start bleeding again before the last bell of the day.

“What is your name?”

“Dean.”

“Well Dean, I am a fully trained nurse, sit down and I will help.” He knew the only way was to let her do it herself, not that he was happy about.

“Fine.” He huffed out sitting down and pulled up this sleeve.

“What happened?” she asked stepping closer, and gently holding his arm for a closer look. She seemed to be speaking in a quieter tone, like Dean was a rabbit and she was trying not to scare him or something, he gave a half shrug at the question before answering, going for nonchalance. 

“The stitches ripped.” It was vague which was good, she didn’t need to know. The nurse took a closer look, reaching for the disinfectant wipes, then she stopped, frozen as she spotted the small amount of floss still left tied to his skin.

“Did, did you stitch this yourself?” shock and apprehension coated her voice.

“Yes.” No way was he going to tell her that it was Sam, no way in freaking hell.

“Is this dental floss?” she asked as she carefully removed it all from the wound. Dean didn’t answer but the fact that he couldn’t look her in the eye when she glanced at him answered her question. 

“That is very dangerous, you should have gone to the hospital this is quite deep.” 

“No, no hospital. I just need the dressing to last till school ends so I can deal with it then.” He told her sternly, she nodded as she began to clean to cut.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.” he answered immediately. 

“When did you sustain this injury?” she asked, decided to get back to nursing him.

“Saturday.”

“Did you do this to yourself Dean?” He didn’t answer, he knew she knew, he didn’t need to say it. He thought it was a stupid question. She took the hint and continued to talk. “Right well, it’s been to long for real stitches so I'm going to clean it, put steri-strips on it to hold it together, then I’ll dress it with some iodine to keep it clean, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He answered not really caring what she was doing as long as she did it fast so he could leave as quickly as he could. 

“You have other scarring on your arm.”

“What’s your point?” he barked back, he was not getting into this.

“No point, just observing.”

“Well, don’t.” he felt a little guilty being so rude but he had to say something just to get her to shut up.

“There you go, all done.” She told the boy with a smile, he instantly pulled his sleeve back down. The nurse looked to Dean and waited until she had eye contact before continuing. “Dean, you don’t have to tell me why you did this, but I want you to come back in a few days so I can see how it is healing, okay?”

“Yeah sure, whatever.” He looked to the wall in an attempt to rid the room of its sudden tension. “Can I go?”

“Yes, take this with you.” She handed Dean a slip to explain he was with the nurse so he doesn’t get in trouble when he returns to class. He took it and left, he stopped at the door, turned and in the most sincere tone he could muster he looked to the nurse and said,

“Thank you.” She returned a small smile and nod before he left and she went back to writing notes, this time on Dean.

 

It wasn’t until the end of school the next day did his things really take a turn for the worse. He packed his bag and was just about to escape when his teacher, Ms Davis stopped him.

“Winchester, can you stay behind for a moment.” He sat back down at his desk, legs spread long in front of him and shot her a flirtatious half smile, he was ready to talk his way out of this one.

“If this is about the essay. I'm working on it.” He hasn’t started it yet, he hasn’t had time, but he’s had some ideas about what to put in it, so that’s got to count for something at least.

“No Dean, it’s not.” The boy was about to let out a thankful breath for avoiding the same old lecture, but didn’t have time before she spoke again. Her words made his stomach drop and twist instantly. “This is about you.”

“What did I do?” Ms Davis perched herself on the front of her desk, facing the Dean.

“Many teachers are becoming worried about your well-being.” She spoke carefully, not wanting to offend him but needing to make him understand.

“Excuse me?” no he thought, not happening, this cannot be happening.

“Your arm.” Ms Davis spelt it out to him otherwise she knew he would talk himself out of it. 

“Listen sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong me.” Ms Davis resisted the sigh that was making its way up her throat. She knew this routine and, she could see straight through it.

“Look Dean, I have been a teacher for a long time. I have seen many students walk through these halls. Through my years here, I have learnt to tell when a student’s cocky, I don’t care attitude is a front. You’re hurting Dean and you are not alone. We can help.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Dean shot back, he felt like a toddler being scalded, he hated this. She thought he was some sad emo freak, he wasn’t. He was a fucking hero.

“The school nurse came to me, worried for you.” He might have known she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I have seen this many times Dean. So I won’t be calling your father, it can cause more problems than it can solve.”

“Thanks.” He told her, if she had of called him both Sam and himself would be screwed. They would find out John had left, and that they’re living out of a motel room, alone.

“But I have made you an appointment at the school counsellor tomorrow after school.”

“What?”

“And you will be going.” She sounded so certain, like she’s done this many times, but Dean was certain too. He was not going to a fucking shrink.

“Hell no.” He got up to leave, deciding it was enough; he had nothing else to say.

“If you do not attend, I will know if you don’t. I will have no choice but to call you father, for your own good.” What the fuck?! He thought, he felt trapped, he didn’t know what he was going to do, all he knew for certain was for the sake of Sam they could not call his dad.

“You can’t call him.” words rushed and unintentionally mixed with fear.

“Then you go to your appointment tomorrow.”

“I can’t, I gotta take my little brother back after school.” He attempted to reason with her; just the thought of doing what she has suggested makes him feel a little sick.

“What do you do when you have a detention?”

“He goes into geek mode in the library.” He answered honestly; Sam really was a little nerd.

“Right, well tell him, you have a detention. I’ll even write you a detention card. Something tells me he won’t have much trouble believing it.” He couldn’t argue with that, the boy has lost count of the number of detentions he has received. He hovered by the door as he watched his teacher write out the detention form “I'm doing this for you Dean.” She told him as she handed it over, he snatched it off her, pissed that he couldn’t think of a way out of it. 

“Yeah sure.” He mumbled to himself before turning and storming down to corridor towards the car park.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean told his little brother of the ‘detention’ on the drive back to the motel. He was not at all surprised with the news of yet another detention Dean had received. He didn’t bother asking why, knowing too well about his brother’s attitude at school. He merely nodded in acknowledgement and turned to look out the window looking at the passing houses. It make Sam’s chest hurt, some of the houses were big, some small, it didn’t matter to Sam what a house looked like, because he knew what it meant, home. He didn’t have a home, home is where you feel safe and wanted, where you’re loved. 

The young boy shook those thoughts off and mentally slapped himself; he did have a home, it just wasn’t made of brick and cement, his home was made of flesh and blood. Dean. His elder brother did so much, sacrificed so much to keep him alive and safe, would talk complete crap to Sam after a hunt even if he was hurt and bleeding just to make him feel safe, told stupid lame jokes to make him smile, cooked for him and checked his homework. Dean was his home. The younger Winchester looked over to his brother and smiled. Dean smirked in return and turned up the radio knowing Sam hated it. Maybe he was wrong.

The Boys soon arrived back at the motel and Dean couldn’t help but cringe at the smell as the door was opened. They always told the staff they didn’t want a maid to come in. Which was usually fine but after a few days of takeaway cartons, half eaten and scattered across the room, it did not make for an inviting place to stay. Sam seemed to be on the same page and without need for communication they set about throwing it all away and opening every window to air the place out. After the room seemed to be semi live-able again Sam got to work on his homework, whilst Dean dutifully neglected his so he could continue to clean the room and also the guns. 

Dean didn’t mean to not to his homework, he never intentionally thought he wouldn’t do it when it got assigned, it was just other things kept popping up. For instance he had a biology test a few months ago, he couldn’t study for it because he was dealing with a curse a few towns over with his dad that made people act out there worst nightmares. Today it was the mess, sure they got rid of the smell but the room was still horrid, he couldn’t stand it, he wanted to have Sam live in a nice, clean, safe place, not some dirty motel room. So he set to work cleaning it. He felt stupid but despite the burning in his arm, his actions allowed him to forget the conversation he had with his teacher, and about his impending ‘detention’.

Despite only managing to do two out of six pieces of pending homework assignments, Dean still managed to check over all of Sam’s, and having no stomach for takeout after seeing and smelling it when it was days old, went to the store to get what he needed for a Casserole. His younger brother ate it all and wanted more, he always loved it when Dean cooked.

That night Dean lay awake planning out every lie with a convincing story, so the counselling session would well and truly be a onetime thing. By the time he shut his eyes and drifted off he was so convinced of his ability to lie he was not worried anymore.

That all changed he woke with a pulling on his stomach and a lump in his throat. He told himself he had nothing to worry about, but he still couldn’t stomach his breakfast. They got to school on time, and for once Dean didn’t enter home room with a smirk and a wink to whatever girl caught his eye, he came in with tired eyes, unstyled hair from putting his hand through it so many times, and sagging shoulders, he didn’t realise until he got to school just how tired he was. The boy set his hands on the desk and stared at the floor, mind reeling with possible scenarios of how after school would go down, none of them good. His mind was so distracted he missed to looks most the class shot him for his out of character actions. Even the teacher looked over worried, when he was so spaced out didn’t reply when his name called. The bell pulled Dean away from his thoughts and quickly gathered his things and tried to escape in the throng of students trying to get out first.

“Dean, can I see you for a moment.” It was not a question despite being phrased like one, Miss Chambers was a stern woman; stern but fare. Though this didn’t stop Dean from disliking her and her no bullshit way of teaching, it didn’t fare well with his attitude. He waited behind until the last student left, she got up from her desk and walked over, for once when she looked at him her eyes weren’t angry and stern, they were different, soft. It put him on edge.

“It’ll be okay Dean, no need to worry about this afternoon.” Dean got it, her eyes, it was pity. He was suddenly pissed, he would not be pitied, mostly though it was the thought if the teachers talking about him just to amuse themselves.

“Jesus, so you all just sit around discussing my personal business or something. It’s got nothing to do with you; it’s all one big misunderstanding.”

“Dean, we’re trying to help,” 

“I don’t need your help, I'm fine.” With that Dean stormed out, aware he just shouted at and most probably pissed off one of the scariest teachers at school, but he didn’t care. Right now he didn’t care about anything, anger was boiling so much his hands tingled, needing to lash out to punch something. He knew he wouldn’t though, he had more control than that. He couldn’t run the risk of a call to his father at the moment, there was no father. 

It was at this moment a boy walked past him neither of them paying attention to where they were going, collided shoulder and spun around to face each other. 

“Watch it.” Dean shouted before he even stopped moving. His eyes collided with a pair of bright blue but red rimmed eyes, when he had stopped moving from their colliding shoulders. Dean instantly felt like the worst person in the world, the boy in front of him look as lost and worried as Dean felt. “Sorry.” He said but any further words stuck in his throat. The boy in front of him gave Dean a one shouldered shrug and nodded before turning and continuing his walk down the corridor. 

Any anger Dean had instantly melted away the moment he saw the boy look so accepting of his unjustified out lash, so accepting. He felt like a jerk. He was supposed to help those that can’t help themselves not shout at them and make them feel worse. He fought off his self-pitying tears as he made his way to his first class of the day. 

The whole day was one huge blur, his concentration shot and all he could see in his head were those pathetic blue eyes that were tear washed, bright and almost too blue, it put Dean on edge and how beautiful they were. This thought just drove Dean even further into self-pity and hatred.

Before he knew it the last bell had gone, and Sam was telling him to spend the time doing homework and walked off to the library. Leaving Dean to walk to the counsellor’s office, with shaking hands, stomach lurching, throat almost closed and sweat starting to fall down his shoulders, he did not want to do this. Dean already knew that he wasn’t going to say anything. The young hunter realised at lunch that the detailed stories and lies for anything anyone could throw at him were no longer in his memory, he had nothing. Just the thought of sitting with someone asking him to talk about his fears and insecurities seemed both ludicrous and terrifying. 

Kids his age worried about sex, pimples, school work and college, Dean had to worry everyday about bringing Sam up, fearing not only his life but his dad and Sam’s too, he worried about when a werewolf will get the best of him, when Sam will get possessed and forced to commit horrendous crimes, he worried about killing innocent people, about keeping Sam alive, safe, fed, warm and happy. He quashed these thoughts as he took a deep breathe plastered on his best cocky, I don’t care mask, perfected since as long as he could remember. He opened the door, ignoring the nouring of his stomach and urge to dry heave. He approached the desk, head held high and full of false bravado. 

“Hello, you must be Dean Winchester,” a young Japanese American receptionist spoke through a professional smile, her hair straight and down to her waist, eyes sharp but welcoming and, almost perfect.

“Sure am sweetheart.” He told her with a wink, her smile seemed to falter slightly before brightening even more, he took it as a positive effect and perched on the edge of her desk. “Look I don’t need to be here, can’t you just put that I was here and I’ll just mosey on out of here, huh?” she laughed for a second straightened her purple dress and cleared her throat.

“Please take a seat Mr. Winchester; they’ll call you when they’re ready for you.” He nodded knowing it would be her answer but it fitted in with his attitude, plus it was worth it to see her laugh. “I almost cracked with your use of the word mosey though.” That made Dean bark out a surprised laugh before turning to find a seat in the small waiting area. 

His eyes scanned over the chairs, there were a handful of students there, it surprised him a little at how busy it was and how light and ordinary the room seemed. He didn’t know what he was expected but no one was looking at him, judging him. They were all in the same boat he thought and walking over to take a seat nearest to the door. Hunter instincts he thought, know you’re exists, he hoped no one would read into it.

He sat in his chair legs stretch out in front of him, so make it look as if he was relaxed and bored, he was neither. He looked to the ceiling in an attempt to settle his rapid heartbeat, and pretend he was anywhere else. 

“Mosey?” a voice interrupted his peaceful lack of thoughts, pulling him back to the room. He looked over to the origin of the voice, a skinny looking guy Dean recognised as a stoner guy in the year below, “Dude, you’re such a dork.” Dean was both deeply embarrassed and angry, if he was in the corridor and not seen here, no one would have said that to him, his reputation was sometimes a godsend. But here in the waiting room with the most screwed up kids in school he was just another fuck up and a target, nope, not gonna happen he thought. He was not a victim.

“Excuse me?” he stood up, body language screamed; just try it. The boy’s face instantly showed his regret for his teasing, despite it being good natured and an attempt of conversation.

“Dean. Settle down.” The receptionist snapped, she turned to the boy still in his seat. “Garth.”

“I'm sorry. Dude I'm sorry, I meant nothing by it, I was just, you know messing around.” He rambled and Dean knew he was telling the truth, he looked this ‘Garth’ boy up and down before sitting down again.

“Okay.” And that was that. 

Dean went about looking around at the other students in the waiting area. Some were waiting for appointment, others just needed a quiet place, others were waiting for their friends to come out and   
some waiting for staff members to phone certain people to get them more help or even medication. None of them met his eye. 

The last person he looked at was the one next to him. Dean’s heart stumbled, he recognised that mop of messy hair, and those clothes, the hunter now felt even worse for snapping at him earlier no wonder he looked like he did when he too had to be here too. 

“Hey.” Dean said leaning a little to try and get his attention; the boy didn’t move, though the fingers that were twisting and circling each other seemed to pick up speed. “I'm sorry again about today, I was just, you know this place just,”

“It’s fine.” The boy interrupted saving Dean from trying to speak when he had no words. “I understand, I felt the same.” His voice sound as if this was the first he had spoken in days. Dean found himself wanted to keep talking to him, so that maybe he would turn his head and the hunter would see the eyes that had plagued his mind most the day.

“I'm Dean.” 

“I know.” The boy said without missing a beat, “We’ve had five classes together since you arrived here four months ago.”

“Oh.” Well Dean now felt even worse, how could he not have noticed this boy. “I'm sorry, I”

“It’s okay. Why would you notice me?” that made Dean's heart sink, again he sounded to accepting and passive over a situation he shouldn’t be in, he couldn’t allow his to continue thinking it. 

“Hey, no don’t do that. I’ve just had a lot on my mind, I don’t know any more that maybe 15 names of students in this school and most of them are because I had disagreements with them.” That made the boy crack a, albeit small smile, but it was there nonetheless.

“I have noticed your apparent liking for trouble.” 

“I suppose you could see it like that.” He replied through a snort of laughter, he knew it looked like he revealed in fighting and throwing his weight around but he didn’t, all he wanted was a quiet life. That made Dean falter in continuing speaking, quiet life would mean no hunting. Did he want to hunt? Dean was shocked that he never actually asked himself that before. He had no time to think of that now and shoved it to the back of his head as he continued to speak to the boy who still hadn’t given up his name. “I don’t like it though. Trouble just finds me.” 

“Really.” The boy with blue eyes replied obviously not believing him, but he seemed amused enough to continue to speak to him. Dean felt compelled to explain and have the boy believe that he was not all about fighting and living up to his ‘reputation’ he wanted him to think more of him. De didn’t know why.

“Yeah, I mean take last week, I got in a fight with some jock dick, totally won by the way. He was being a complete dick to my baby brother, someone threatens to beat Sammy up, I beat them up.”  
“That’s, almost sweet.” Blue eyes replied, finally looking over to him, eyes still bright and concentrated completely on Dean. He knew he was being honest and it almost made the hunter blush, almost.  
“Shut up.” He told him though a smile, there was also no heat behind his words. They sat in silence for a few minutes, though it surprised Dean it wasn’t uncomfortable, it just was. No need to fill the silence or to leave and get away from it, it was nice.

“Castiel.” Blue eyes spoke softly, barely more than a whisper as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Huh?” 

“My name.”

“Castiel?” Dean asked, not sure he heard it right, he’d never heard of a name like that before.

“Yeah.” Blue eyes replied fingers starting to fidget again.

“Huh.” Dean sound out loud, he heard that name before, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“I know it’s stupid.”

“I like it.” He almost sounded offended that the owner of the name insulted it, it caused blue eyes to smile, a little bigger this time. Dean looked up, there seemed to be less people waiting around, the   
Garth boy from earlier was gone and Dean suddenly felt as if he should maybe apologise to the guy. Once again no one meet his eye, for which he was very thankful.

“It’s your first time here.” Blue eyes spoke breaking the silence.

“Hmm.” 

“I’ll give you some advice, when you get in there. Don’t lie. They can tell.” 

“No need to worry about that, I won't be saying anything. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes you should.” He sounded so sure of himself and of Dean's need to get ‘help’ despite himself he was suddenly angry.

“You know nothing.” He shot back, Castiel looked back in front of him, in doing so taking away those damn eyes. Dean couldn’t help but deflate a little and blue eyes spoke without missing a beat, but   
it sounded more like a whisper stopping anyone but Dean from hearing.

“I know that everyone here has one thing in common.” He let that hang in the air for a few beats as Dean scanned the room, as he leaned closer to listen better and the low growling whisper of the boy   
he continued. “They’re lonely, need someone to talk to.”

“Not me. I won’t be talking.” For some reason Castiel smiled at that. Weird. 

“Maybe not this time, maybe not the next, but soon you won’t be able to resist the urge to talk to a non-bias individual, who genuinely cares. You’ll talk, you’ll have too.”

“Not me.” Dean sounded sure but he mind was wavering a little.

“We all came here with the exact same mind set. You’ll crack. We all did.”

“I have nothing to say.” He said, meaning it truthfully to the impending appointment as well as what Castiel had just said.

“Just be honest it will go easier.” 

“Hmm.” Dean hummed still not sure of what to say, although he hated what blue eyes was saying, part of him believe everything he said, and that freaked him out.

After another five minutes of silence the hunter genuinely seemed to be relaxed sitting next to Castiel not speaking, He had even almost forgot what they were both waiting for, until the receptionist   
called him to go to room two. This was it.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean approached the worn dark door, the name, ‘Dr, Louise Shaw’ written across the frosted window. He knocked three times and waited to hear the polite but firm ‘come in’ from the other side of the door before he took a deep breath and open it.

“Dean Winchester?” A surprisingly young woman looked up from her papers and smiled at the nervous looking boy in front of her, though he tried his best to hide it.

“Yeah.” He said as he stepped further into the room.

“Please come in and take a seat.” Her hair was blonde and pulled back into a bun, she had black plastic glasses and sharp as hell cheek bones and pale pink lipstick, which should look bad, but not on her. Dean nodded and took a seat in front of her desk. “So,” She began, closing the folder in front of her and lacing her fingers above it, looking Dean straight in the eye. “I'm Dr Shaw, but Louise is fine. Your teachers suggested the meeting,”

“Forced.” Dean corrected instantly, staring right back at her, Louise didn’t seemed fazed at all and continued speaking like she hadn’t heard him.

“Because they are concerned about your well-being.” She did not miss the non-subtle way Dean's eyes rolled at that statement, though she said nothing about it. “They feel that having someone to discuss some issues with, would be of benefit to you.” They sat in silence for a few beats, Louise was waiting for Dean to speak, but he sat in silence, hands in fits and shoulders rigid. “Do you think so?” Dean was staring at the ceiling but upon hearing the question he looked at her with raised eyebrows as if she asked the most stupid question he had ever heard. “Okay, if we just get some necessary paper work out the way first.” She opened the folder in front of her and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper. “Just a few forms and questions, don’t worry you won’t have to do this every time,”

“Every time? No, I'm not doing this again, they forced me here I'm here, that’s the end of it.” Dean was leaning forward now, completely engaging the woman in front of him for the first time, they stared each other down and were silent for a few beats.

“Hmm.” Was all she said about it. Louise picked up the first form and filled out Dean's names on the top, she read out the questions waiting for an answer after each one, no answer came. “I just need you to answer a few questions, for admin. Do you suffer any physical illness or disability? Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness? Ever been prescribed anti-depressants? Are you seeking help outside of school? Ever been diagnosed with an eating disorder or fear you may have one? And the main issues you are worried about in your life?” Dean just stared at the form in front of her not wanting to engage her in conversation, suddenly afraid something might slip. “Dean, you have to help me, so I can help you.” She didn’t sound pissed like Dean would have expected. She was used to having students in her office that were adamant not to speak, in her experience they just needed time to get used to the idea.

“I don’t need help.” Dean told her, voice monotone and almost too calm. 

“We all need help sometimes; it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I'm not ashamed of anything sweetheart, I'm just fine. Nothing wrong with me, nothing to discuss.” He sounded so sure of himself Dean was almost half convinced he had convinced her. She took a look over another piece of paper and read through what was written for a few minutes.

“You hurt your arm, is that correct?” He suppressed another eye roll but couldn’t stop his hand from covering the still burning wound on his arm. “May I see?”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.” he sounded suddenly very small, Louise heart went out to the boy.

“Okay, that is your decision.” She still sounded professional, but not in a cold detached way, he still felt a wave of relief though.

“Damn straight.” She nodded ignoring his attitude, making Dean feel strangely guilty about it.

“You have a brother in school, is that right?”

“Yeah.” Dean said before he could stop himself, a little stunned at the change of direction the discussion had taken.

“His name Sam?” Dean nodded; he was starting to hate the piece of paper she was reading from. “Tell me about him.”

“Why? So you can bring him in here?”

“No, I just want to know more about you.” Damn there that soft understanding hippy shit voice that makes Dean feel guilty again. He didn’t want to answer her but talking about Sam meant not talking   
about himself and his so called ‘problems’, plus sitting in silence with her watching him was making the boy feel on edge.

“He’s smart. Loves learning and school. Always takes the last of the good cereal and does not stop complaining about the music in my car.” He couldn’t stop the small mile on his face when he spoke of his brother.

“You love him.” She told him with a similar smile, finding it refreshing that a student doesn’t come into her office effing and blinding about their siblings. 

“Course I do, he’s my brother.” She liked that answer, it was a good thing. However it also made her more cautious, he was obviously protective over him so it was a tricky subject. Louise also knew that by reading Dean's file alone, he had secrets, he was hurting, the fact he was so protective and loved his brother meant there was probably something bigger and darker in his life. Something Sam needed protected from.

“You’d be surprised how many people would say the opposite.” He didn’t answer that, he had nothing to say, she didn’t really expect him too so continued right on. “Family’s important to you.”

“It’s important to everyone.” Answering as if it was the most obvious thing, he couldn’t imagine his life without family, he’d be dead without family.

“Again you’d be surprised.” His eyebrow drew in confusion, he would never understand people hating on their family, because when it comes down to it, they are all you have. “You’re mother, passed away when you were young,”

“No.” he shot back instantly, he hadn’t realised that he had relaxed in the chair slightly, until the mention of his mother made every muscle tense back up.

“She didn’t? Oh I'm sorry it says here-” 

“No, I mean yeah she’s dead, and no we are not going there, we are not discussing her. But it’s good to know you already have a file on me. Can I see?” he leaning forward in his chair in an attempt to get a better look at the paper. 

“It’s confidential Dean.” He didn’t think she would let him read it but it meant that the subject of his mum was behind them, so he was going to push it until she forgot about his mum.

“It’s about me.” He argued back, because he could.

“I'm sorry.”

“This is bullshit.” He blurted out in a huff, she suddenly saw him like a normal teenager, not restrained and quiet, or holding himself up with tension and worry, she kept that to herself.

“Why don’t you tell me in your own words why you are here.”

“They got the wrong idea and forced me here.” He told her with a shrug, it was that simple. They misunderstood, couldn’t keep their mouths shut and forced him to come here.

“Wrong idea about what?” she knew all about his arm, they both knew, but she wanted Dean's opinion and perspective, at the very least she wanted him talk, it worked.

“My arm. They thought I did it to hurt myself.” She nodded looking at him, attempting to will him into looking at her, but he was staring anywhere but.

“Then why did you do it.” She spoke softly and slowly, somehow Dean felt a pull to answer, but he knew he couldn’t. How could he even begin to explain?

“You wouldn’t believe me.” He huffed out, it was the truth she would think he was crazy. He glanced up to her; she was sitting patiently, waiting. He sighed and decided to tell her the truth, part of it. 

“To prove that I was human.” There was silence for a few moment, Dean instantly regretted saying anything, it sounded so stupid, but she didn’t seem effected by it just quickly scribbled something down.

“How about we answer those questions, I need to fill in?” her voice sounded lighter, softer, as if she were trying not to scare him.

“Okay.” Not seeing any other option.

“Do you suffer any physical illness or disability?”

“No, I mean I get headaches and have trouble sleeping but that’s not really-why, why are you writing this down?” he asked, does she have to document everything he says?

“It’s all relevant Dean.” She finished her notes and turned back to the boy “Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” 

“No.”

“Ever been prescribed anti-depressants?” 

“No.”

“Are you seeking help outside of school?” Dean couldn’t help but snort a short cut laugh at that. 

“Honey, I'm not even seeking help inside of school.” She didn’t rise to it, she ignored it.

“Ever been diagnosed with an eating disorder or fear you may have one?” 

“No.” he brain going back to the motel room before he cleaned it, all those take out cartons, yeah no disorder here.

“And the main issues you are worried about in your life?”

“Nothing.” It was a lie they both knew it, but Dean was not about to tell the truth, that would go down well; ‘yeah I'm worried that my brother will die before graduation, about me not being able to protect him, and something killing my dad or Bobby, about the fact my dad ran away and has left us alone, again.’ That’s really going to make him sound sane.

“Come on Dean, everyone is worry about something, it’s in our nature.” She was not going to drop this one.

“What are you worried about?”

“You.” She answered within seconds, instantly. He didn’t suppress the eye roll. 

“If you’re not going to be straight with me why should I give you the same courtesy?”

“Okay. I'm worried about my daughter; she’s at college and is finding it hard to make friends. I'm worried for my dog he’s got an operation tomorrow, I worry about the other students in my care and   
you might not want to believe me, but I am worried about you too.” That took Dean a moment to register, it was so honest and he even began to believe that she actually did care a little, about his well-being. She was just a good actress he reasoned, you’d have to be in this job.

“Whatever.” He mumbled, but she could tell his had softened a little.

“So what are your worries? We don’t have to discuss them today.” Hearing that made Dean a little more comfortable with the situation so took a breath and began. The truth but the bare minimum.

“Sam, always worried about him. It’s my job to take care of him,” he stopped for a moment thinking about how Sam almost died not long ago, and whispered to himself, though she heard. “What if I fail?” He cleared his throat, blush dusting over his nose a little before continuing. “My dad, Bobby, everyone, everything.” He left out a little puff of breath a little baffled at the prospect of actually saying all of that out loud.

“Why are you worried about everyone?”

“You said I don’t have to discuss it.” He shot back instantly.

“Not today you don’t.” he said easily with a small smile and continued speaking before Dean could. “You’re next session, we will.”

“I'm not coming back.”

“I'm putting you don’t for two sessions a week after school, today’s Tuesday so we’ll do Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She wrote this down as a reminder handing it to Dean as he continued speaking “My   
door is also open at lunch times if you wanted to talk or just sit somewhere quiet.”

“Do I have choice?” she asked taking the paper from her.

“No.” she told him with a soft smile but firm tone, “I want you to fill this out, just some details and a small questionnaire. Please answer it as honestly as you can, I’ll be the only one that reads it.”  
Dean didn’t believe a word of it, it has only been a few days and practically the whole teaching body knew his business.

“So you’re not going to go around to all the teachers and they’ll know my business and then try and talk to me, when they should know nothing about it in the first place. I won’t be the subject of gossip.”

“No Dean, that won’t happen.” And for some reason he believed her. He nodded and took the pen she was offering and began to fill out the questioner she placed on the desk.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning the boys got to school extremely early. Sam was insistent on an early rise, something about a test, he didn’t really take it in. only just awake enough to get himself ready and drag himself out to the car to get them in at such a god awful early hour.

At least Sam was happy he thought after Sam thanked him. Dean smiled as he watched him bounced off to homeroom to study or whatever he does before whatever he’s about to do. Dean wants to say biology test, could be wrong.

So Dean's walking the corridors, they’re almost completely empty, as was both the student car park and the staff car park.

It was not now that he expected to run into bright eyes, Cas, he corrected himself. He needed to stop doing that. The boy was walking towards him with his head down, eyes on the floor and books clutched to his chest. It was strange, he seemed to have an air of confidence the day before in the waiting room. 

Now though he looked small, shy, though Dean knew more than most about putting up a façade. Maybe he had a test too Dean thought. Though the darker side of his mind, put together the counselling session with his slightly redden cheeks, ruffled hair and what was only visible to his trained eye, was a slight limp. He placed slightly more weight on his left leg like it was painful or at least uncomfortable to walk normally. Though he covered it well, obviously used to whatever pain he was in. The hunter unfortunately concluded that maybe he was here this early every morning just to get out of his house as soon as he possibly could.

He had no explanation as to why that thought gave him the sensation that the floor fell out from under his feet. No reason why he felt like he was short of breath but was breathing without trouble, why his heart sank and stuttered but with no change to his heartbeat. What he did know was that he couldn’t stop his mind supplying in vivid detail any and all possible scenarios as to the possible tragedy that was bright eyes life. 

He didn’t even know this kid, but somehow felt the same passion run through him as though he was on a Case, the urge to help, the desire to save. But there was no monster to kill, no body to burn, no foe he could defeat, there were just humans. Just one sad teenager, in a shitty situation. It hit the hunter hard that for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to help him and even if he could or indeed should interfere.

Dean swallowed the sudden drying of his throat making it uncomfortable, bright eyes was getting closer, eyes still fixed to the floor so he hadn’t noticed he had company. It would have been so easy for Dean to turn around, to ignore him, pretend he never saw him, and for the thoughts of Cas’ home life and general well-being never entered his mind. It would have been so easy, but it also wasn’t in Dean to turn away. Not when his whole life he was trained to save people. He didn’t know yet if that were even possible with him. The least he could do was make sure bright eyes didn’t feel completely alone and invisible, maybe he could save him if only a little by being his friend.

“Hey Castiel.” Voice louder than he expected, amplified by the near to empty halls, with his eyes still fixed to the floor the sudden noise of Dean speaking, in the previous quiet hallway startled the boy out of any thoughts that were swimming around his mind. His eyes shot up instantly seemingly both shocked and surprised that anyone would take the time to greet him, again went Dean's heart plunging into the school’s basement. God Dean thought, it must suck to be that surprised at basic human interactions. The hopeful part of his brain supplied that maybe he just wasn’t expecting someone in so early.

Bright eyes lived up to the memory of their limited interaction Dean had shamefully replayed a few times in his head the night before. Although there was a stunning difference, the slight redness around the edges of his eyes, though worrying, only served to make the colour even more striking. Anger flared when he registered the red rim of his eyes, it looked like he had been crying. What the young hunter wanted to do was demand to know why he was hurting and who made it so, take the offending party out and make everything okay. Of course he knew there was no way he could ask that of a relative stranger. He kept his cool determined to carry on with the original planned make Cas feel better by being his friend. 

Maybe he didn’t need to be a hero all the time, maybe just being there was sometimes enough. Even if his plan lead to nothing more that hellos in the corridor between classes, it was 100 times better than nothing.

Cas’ shoulders visible slumped when he saw the hunter, it was as if he was expecting a hostile situation.

“Morning Dean.” He answered back, voice gruff and raw, like it was the first time he’s used it that day, though when Dean thought about it, it was a quite possibly an accurate assumption, that urge was back, though he had no idea what to do with it.

He knew though he didn’t want to end the conversation. 

He sucked at small talk though, he also got the feeling that Cas didn’t partake in it much either, but what else was there to say? They didn’t know each other enough for anything deeper, especially not for the questions Dean wanted to ask.

“How are you?” It was a stupid question Dean knew it, but it made Cas smile a little, like he was amused at the effort. Or like it was ironic because he obviously isn’t alright and you’re an idiot for asking, his mind supplied.

“I'm good Dean, fine. And yourself?”

“Good, good. Kinda tired, Sam wanted to get in real early cause he had a test, or something.”

“That’s unfortunate, I suppose you could always do some homework, maybe avoid detention for the day.”

“Oh ha ha very funny Cas.” His tone was one of mocking sarcasm but the smile on his lips was genuine. Cas smiled back at him in return. Dean hadn’t realised he used a nickname for Castiel, but Cas loved it. The boy seemed more comfortable with Dean now so he decided to question his earliness. “Point taken though, not a bad idea though, is that why you’re here at this time?”

The small amount of thought Cas had to put into his answer “yeah that’s right,” made Dean realise that he had given Cas an out and he had promptly taken it. The hunter had no problems with that though, because his plan to make sure bright eyes wasn’t alone was becoming more and more possible. 

“Excellent, then lead the way.”

“Huh?”

“To the library or wherever you wanna do this, we’ve got what? An hour before school, I could totally do my homework for the day.”

“Oh, yeah okay, if you’re, with me.” It was the first time in their limited interactions with each other the boy seemed flustered. As if he was shocked Dean wanted to walk to the library with him, sit with him and do homework in his company. Kind of like he wasn’t used to doing this with people, like he had no friends. He was really hating the familiar sinking feeling his gut was getting today.  
“Course, come on.” He threw his arm over his shoulder for good measure and began walking the boy towards the library. He didn’t miss the slight pink tinged to his cheek bones and a small smile on his lips, but he didn’t comment. Just Had a Smile of his own as they silently walked through the empty corridors.

 

Dean had to admit that the library was a good idea. He was right in that he did manage to get all his homework for the day done, albeit roughly and kinda hurriedly but nonetheless complete.   
The young hunter also found it surprisingly easy to sit with Cas. There was a comfortable silent companionship between them by the end of the hour. Their conversation lulled in an out but it wasn’t a bad thing if anything Dean thought it was a good thing. In conversation that they had, they found out which five classes they shared; history, chemistry, art, English literature and Spanish, their lunch period, also strangely enough are on the same counselling schedule. Dean had joked about seeing a lot of each other and Cas had smiled one of his soft shy smiles and answered, ‘yeah I suppose we will’. Dean liked to think that meant ‘good I’m glad’ though he would never admit it.

He wanted to ask why in his short time at school why he had not seen Cas around more, as they shared a few classes but he didn’t, from what he has seen of bright eyes Cas liked to keep to himself. He was shy but not painfully so, so Dean concluded that perhaps his isolation was more to do with choice. He didn’t want to think of what could happen to make a person want to make themselves invisible. He swallowed that unsettling thought, they left the library together only to find themselves in a much more crowded corridor. Standing together and needing to part ways for homeroom. Dean looked over to bright eyes for another look at those striking eyes that Dean was proud to see no longer has a tinge of red and who smiled back at him. They parted with a friendly nod and small wave and made their way to their separate class rooms to begin the day.

 

It was strange that after their pleasant homework session before school, Dean was left wanting to do it again. Yes he flirted and talked shit with a lot of people, but he has never really hung out with someone like that before, like they were friends. This realisation made the hunter hyper aware of the boys existence. For the rest of the day he had his eyes open searching for bright eyes. For that mop of dark hair and the striking contrast to his pale skin, but there was nothing.

They were supposed to share two classes that day but he wasn’t there, even at lunch time there was no sign. He didn’t want to come across as a creep and spend the whole lunch time looking for someone he barely knew, but his stomach was unsettled at his apparent disappearance. It wouldn’t be till the next day until he finally saw him again. 

 

That night over dinner Dean found out it was in fact a biology test which of course the younger Winchester aced. After they had eaten and Dean washed up, he had spent the rest of that night; sharpening their knives, cleaning the guns, on the phone for two hours calling different contacts they met through their dad to try and get any clue to where he was. He even started to call hospitals dreading the worst but there was no news. He called Bobby who assured him everything was fine and to stop fretting and that John would return when he can. He then proceeded to check Sam’s graphics homework, something Dean has a natural knack for. That night he only managed to do two pieces of homework (out of five due) and when he crawled into bed completely exhausted, it took hours for him to get to sleep. He was running tomorrow over in his mind again and again, he had his second session with Dr Shaw, his stomach was already twisting at the thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was on his way to his first lesson when he noticed him. Cas was once again walking alone eyes down and books to his chest. Dean’s moment of relief was short lived when the books were knocked out of his arms and they landed in a heap on the floor. The boy’s responsible he recognised as some of the boy’s on the swim team, both with spiked hair and broad shoulders. He also remembers them as being dicks, they were friends with the boy Dean had a fight with (and won) not long ago, because he threatened his brother.

Cas was blushing and the boys responsible for his humiliation were laughing and began to kick around the loose papers around the floor. The two dicks started calling Cas names, less kind then bright eyes, he didn’t catch them all but he did hear ‘freak’ a few times. Anger boiled in Dean, not just at the idiot doing it but at all the students walking by ignoring it. Before he even had chance to think about making the decision to do something, he was already making his way over.

“Hey.” He shouted, gaining more attention than just the boys responsible. Students walking past instantly began walking slower now in less of a hurry to get to their class on time, expecting a show, they knew Dean's reputation. As did the bullies that had stopped messing with Cas’ stuff, because they looking like they really regretted their decisions. 

The hunter walked up to the bigger of the two, only stopping a few inches from them, intimidating them as he snarled, “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” They had no answer for him, both paled and the prospect of Dean Winchester in their face. The bullies stepped back a little when the hunter squared his shoulders readied for a fight.

“Whatever man.” One of the boys said as they turned to leave, he would have come across and nonchalant if it weren’t for the slight waver in his voice. The hunter watched them walk away before turning to Cas who was trying to gather his belongings and order his papers. The students in the hallway were walking normally again, satisfied it was over.

“Hey Cas, you alright?” he asked as Cas stood, books back in his arms.

“I didn’t ask for your help Dean.” He sounded pissed, that was not what Dean was expecting.

“I know but,”

“I do not need your help.” He really did sound angry, the hunter took a step back, though Cas wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Cas, I was, I was only trying to help.”

“Well don’t.” He snapped before storming past him. Dean was left speechless, he didn’t understand what just happened.

 

By lunch time he still didn’t really understand, he just knew he didn’t want Cas mad at him, for whatever reason. Bright eyes was in the cafeteria today on a table at the back, alone.

“Hey Cas.”

“Hi.” It as a short answer but lacked the heat of earlier and it was an answer so he gladly took it 

“Can I sit?”

“Do what you want.” He huffed, still not looking up from his lunch, Dean bit back a sigh and carefully sat himself down opposite Cas.

“Look Cas, I don’t want you mad at me, I'm sorry okay. I just wanted to help you.”

“No, I'm sorry, I over reacted.” He sighed rubbing his face before finally meeting Dean’s eye. “Thank you for, for helping me. I just don’t like not being able to handle it, not being strong enough.” The last part was whispered and ran so much deeper than everything else he was saying. Dean chose his words carefully not wanting to offended or patronise him.

“Not everyone can be strong all the time.” It seemed to be the right thing to say, there was a small smile gracing his features.

“Yeah well, if you want to talk to me, I suggest you try again tomorrow, if you still want too. Today’s not a good day.”

‘Whatever that means’ Dean thought.

“Err, yeah sure, I guess I’ll leave you be then.” He didn’t know what else to say, he got the feeling he should know what he was getting at but he was coming up blank. He shook his head as he got up to go find Sam.

“Dean?” Bright eyes’ voice was suddenly quiet and meek, like he words were for no one else but Dean, that made the hunter lean in slightly to make sure he didn’t miss anything. There was a little pause, followed by that little voice again, he almost sounded shy, “Thank you.” Dean wasn’t sure how to respond, how did Cas make such a simple phrase sound so big and important? So he nodded at the boy and left him alone.

 

He walked through the cafeteria ignoring the brunette girl he would usually smile and wink at, and the guys he would greet, he didn’t have it in him to pretend to care at the moment.

He made his way to Sam’s table, he was sharing with a few friends, two of which were in the midst of what looked like a very intense game yugioh, there were a few XYZ summoned monsters, some syncro’ed monsters and loads of counter spell cards, but Dean didn’t have time to get sucked in. Sam got him into it- so sue him. Another few of Sam’s friends were debating something that stopped when Dean approached so he didn’t know what they were discussing. If Dean were honest they looked like nerds, which meant he was glad they had Sam as a friend, his brother could certainly protect them. High school was tough. He didn’t pay much attention to the people at the table, all of whom were now looking at him. He wanted to talk to Sam, without an audience. 

He needed to make up a detention to cover his counselling session after school. This would be fun, he thought, knowing the disappointment in his little brothers face will make him want to tell the truth, but he couldn’t, no way.

“Hey Sammy, can I talk to you for a sec?” he took his brother to the side, mentally preparing himself.

“Bad news Sammy. You got to go to the library again.” Sam took a breath and smiled, that was new, he never smiled at the news of a detention before.

“Okay.” Was all he said before turning to re-join his friends.

“That’s it?” Dean asked a little taken back.

“Yeah, that’s it, what do you want me to say, I'm used to it Dean. You’re never going to get your act together, it’s fine. Gives me time to study.”

He left before any retort formed in his brother’s mind and reached his lips. What Sam said did have truths to it, he didn’t see much point to school. Not when his life was already planned out, his path is set beneath his feet, nothing to be done about his future, no matter how hard he worked, but this time, it wasn’t actually his fault.

It wasn’t a real detention; he wanted to shout it to his brother. Though he knew there was no way he could. The reason the whole teaching body thinks he needs counselling is because they noticed his arm, he gently rubbed it feeling the dressing and heat from his damaged but healing skin through his clothes, and the reason his arm had to be cut was because Sam’s life was in danger, and he needed to prove he was human, to make him safe. 

It wasn’t Sam’s fault, wasn’t even his dads fault, but he knew Sam would blame himself and try to help, but it would only serve to make the whole situation more complicated and stressful. So he would stick to being a ‘rebel without a cause’ a ‘bad boy’ a ‘lost cause’ a ‘completely useless student with no motivation and no future’ in his brother’s eyes.

Ignorance is bliss after all, and after everything that the young boy had been through, the least Dean could do was let him keep that little bit of ignorance left to him. Let him believe what he wants and for once not know all the unpleasant truths there are to know.

Lunch was over all too quickly, as was the lesson Dean could barely concentrate in. he saw Cas in his history class, like at lunch he sat at the back. He kept his head down and wrote notes though he seemed just as distracted as Dean felt. He didn’t look up when the young hunter walked in, so he didn’t greet him, smile or give him a friendly nod. Just took his seat with a smirk to the curly haired ginger next to him- keep up the reputation Dean thought as he did it. He didn’t want anything else in his life changing, didn’t want people looking too closely at his life. His leg bounced as he waited for the end of the school day.

When the day was over the dread and crippling fear in the pit of Dean's stomach began and made him feel nauseous. It was worse then when he was on a hunt. There were rules on a hunt, he knew what to do and what not to do, how to take something out. Yet now, it was scarier than the supernatural. He hadn’t let himself think about his session for that exact reason. He dragged out packing away his stuff and leaving the room for as long as he could. He was the last to leave except the teacher, who was looking at him a little strangely. He sighed she knew, he knew she knew. Despite the promise Louise made to him, it seemed he was still the subject of gossip. He shot the teacher his best glare, which clearly surprised her, as he left.

He entered the waiting room just as a boy with dark hair walked into one of the counselling rooms, Cas, his mind supplied. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed they hadn’t spoken while they waited like before.   
He ‘checked in’ then quickly and quietly and took the same seat as before, and like before that boy sat near him. Garth, he remembered. He smiled at the boy but he kept his eyes averted so didn’t see, remembering his rather intimidating outburst when they first spoke it was not entirely surprising. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly disappointed in himself.

“Hey.” He whispered to the boy, “sorry about before.”

“s’cool man, I get it.”

They fell into silence, and unlike with Cas it was uncomfortable and tension filled. It was a relief when his name was called, it seemed the lesser of two evils despite the churning of his stomach. He could do this he’s faced a goddamn werewolf with a pocket knife, that wouldn’t kill it before, he could handle an hour of talking.

He knocked on the same door as before, greeted in the same manor by the same woman, took a seat in the same chair and readied himself for the same torture as before.

“Good afternoon Dean, how have you been since our last session?”


	6. Chapter 6

It was as bad as he thought it would be, she asked questions he didn’t feel comfortable answering. Questions that he couldn’t answer for the sake of the safety of Sam, but also so she didn’t think he was crazy. So there wasn’t much to say because his life generally revolved around crazy and dangerous.

He asked about the way the teachers were looking at him, how he felt pitied and talked about. He’s pretty sure she thought he was paranoid, but she also assured him that the only information she has shared with the teachers were the days of their sessions. She reasoned that it was so they can be aware if he seems stressed on those days or a detention needs to be given he doesn’t have to explain the situation himself. Dean hated to admit it was a good idea.

When he had finished, the hunter silently left and hurried to the library to collect Sam and take them home. The brothers didn’t say much on the way home, the music the only noise in the car. The session had given Dean a headache and so for the first time ether could recall, it was Dean that turned the music down, earning a frown and a side glance from sam but he said nothing.

When they got back, Sam unpacked his books onto the small rickety table to continue his studying whilst Dean, feeling completely emotionally drained from the previous hour, flopped onto his bed.

Although the hunter didn’t talk to Louise about much, the session made him think. Think about Sam, whether this life is what’s best for him, if it’s what Sam wants, if it’s what he wants, about his school work, how everything just seems so much more important and also about his dad. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he hunting on his own? All these thoughts were spiralling around his head, his head began to worse and was now pounding in his skull. The itching of his arm didn’t help matters, forcing the incident with his father to the forefront of his mind.

“You know Dean, if you spend half the time studying as you do laying around, you won’t be getting so many detentions.” Sam told him without looking up from his text book.  
His brother’s words both hurt and angered him, but it wasn’t like he could say anything. Dean had actually did his homework yesterday and most for today, the important ones that had something to do with the course. He enjoyed it too, it meant he could actually follow lessons easier and for the first time in a long time, he took stuff in. He did like learning new things, though Sam didn’t need to know that, one nerd in the family was enough. He just wished there was a point of it, an end goal to school he could work for, but there just wasn’t. 

He didn’t reply to Sam’s comment just got up and went to the bathroom, out of everything he thought about, the only thing decided was to change the dressing on his arm. It was the only thing Dean could see that he could change. It was very red and his skin tender and warm to the touch but the cut was clean and it was healing. The young hunter found himself sat on the bathroom floor for a while when he had finished, just staring at the wall. he didn’t know how long he had sat there but when his head cleared, his foot was nearly numb from the angle he was sat.

When he came back out Sam had stopped studying, his work still on the table, but he was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for Dean.

“I'm sorry Dean, I didn’t mean it,” the young boy rushed out, words mushed together in his hast to get them out.

“Yeah, yeah you did Sammy and you’re right, I should study more.” Dean had to admit.

“I know why you don’t.”

“It’s fine.”

“You have so much to do Dean, it’s not fair, but believe me I don’t need you to sacrifice your education for me, we can share it all out, the cooking, washing, cleaning, shopping, everything, anything, let me help.”

“It’s fine Sammy, it’s my job to protect you.” Dean told his brother as he made his way to his bed, not looking at Sam, not wanting the conversation.

“It’s not. You can’t do everything all the time. You’re exhausting yourself Dean. It’s not your job to do anything!”

“Yes it is! Okay it is. If anything happened to you. It’s on me, okay? I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you. I'm not strong enough to lose you.” Dean had his head in his hands, fighting back the prickling feeling in his eyes. Sam sank to his knees in front of his brother. Dean felt a hand on his arm, he looked up and the hunter instantly hated himself, Sam looked like a kicked puppy.

“Dean, we’re safe, dad’s not here, we’re going to school, it’s safe and it’s good Dean. For the first time I don’t hate my life. I don’t wish for normality every day, because we have it here. The only thing I am in danger of is going back.”

“Back where?”

“Back with dad. When he returns, we will go back to what we were before, that, is the only thing I'm afraid of.” Dean watched as Sam started pacing, nothing Sam said surprised him, what did surprised him was how much he related to him.

“Sam, I” 

“It’s okay Dean, I know you’re set on the family business, I know you enjoy it. There are good points, we do help people, I get that. I just feel trapped Dean.”

“I know.” He steps towards his brother, not being able to take the tears in his eyes and wrapped his arms around the younger smaller shoulders of his brother. “Me too.” He whispered, Sam hugged back tightly.

When they parted, even though they didn’t really come to any agreed conclusion about anything Dean felt much better. As if Sam and he had a sort of understanding now, he wasn’t entirely sure about what, but it was there.

“Okay, I’ll get some dinner done, you continue studying.” He told his brother as he started to make his way to the kitchen area.

“I’ll do dinner Dean.” Dean could tell there was no point in arguing with him, he was already rummaging through cupboards.

“Okay I guess I’ll do some work then.” They shared a smile and continued their separate tasks.

It took Sam longer than it would take Dean to cook dinner, but an hour and a half of hard work and two singed fingers later, Sam had made what turned out to be a good dinner. Dean praised it greatly and ate two portions. He couldn’t eat too much because Dean had made a budget for them to live on the Cash they had left. They were only to use the stolen credit cards in Dean's wallet when they were out, or for emergencies.

That night Sam had not only cooked but washed up and cleaned the bathroom, leaving Dean free to catch up with his work. An impressive pile of completed homework was on the table by the end of the night, including the paper for history that he finally finished. Dean couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

“Thank you Sam.” He told his brother, who beamed back “But you know that can’t happen every night, you know that right?”

“Yeah, but something like it can, we can do it together then study together a few hours each night.”

“Sam, you’re just a kid, you shouldn’t have too.”

“For fuck sake Dean! You’re a kid too and you basically brought me up. Let me share the load for fuck sake!” he was speechless for a moment, Sam didn’t make a habit of swearing, so it took a moment to process, it meant Sam was really stressed or pissed off, in this Case both. Dean hated seeing his brother like this.

“Okay. Okay Sammy. Thank you.”

They didn’t speak much for the rest of the night, both Winchesters having a rough night sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day was a mix of things that made Dean smile, and things that made him want to punch the wall.

Firstly the teacher made him stay behind after home room to ‘have a word’ Dean could guess that word would be about the counselling session he had yesterday.

“Yes?” he asked already having lost his patience. 

“I just wanted to ask how you are doing?” her voice sickeningly sweet, sticky sweet, it sounded like her voice had gone up two octaves like he was speaking to a lost child. Then he realised; that was how they saw him. The thought made his teeth clench. 

“Just fine. Can I go, I’ll be late for class.” The young hunter tried so hard to sound polite, but even he knew he failed miserably.

“No need for rudeness, I'm merely checking on your wellbeing.”

“Well to me, it feels like I'm the subject of gossip amongst the staff, if the pitying looks are anything to go by, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“No one is gossiping Dean, we’re just concerned.”

“I get that, no need to worry, I'm peachy.”

“Very well Dean, you may go.” He stormed out positively reeling at what just occurred, the only thing that calmed him down was Sam’s smiling face in the corridor as he joked with friends on the way to his next lesson. Sam didn’t see his brother but he didn’t need too to make him feel like smiling again.

Cas was in his class, he once again sat at the back, only this time there was a desk next to him, so without a moment’s thought he went to take it. 

Dean had to admit he had been preoccupied recently and has been ignoring his flirting. He didn’t think anyone would exactly notice or care, but when he caught the eye of a blonde we always winked too, she was wearing a top that showed more cleavage than anything else he can remember her wearing, and looking right at Dean. He didn’t want to disappoint her so he winked at her, played with a strand of hair and quietly told her, ‘loving the top sweetheart’ she beamed back at him, like it was the best thing to happen to her all day, he then continued to walk to the desk. Only now with a horrible feeling of guilt, making a beautiful young women doubt herself. He had inadvertently stomped all over her self-esteem, be hated himself in that moment. And everyone that made girls believe they were only worth as much and others deem them to be, god, he was glad in that moment he had a brother. If he had a sister he wouldn’t be able to treat her the same, and never let her out his sight. Great Dean thought, more guilt.

He sat himself down and stretched his legs out, laying his notepad and pen out in preparation.

Their teacher was late more often than not, which meant they were still waiting and Dean had no issue with that, it gave him time to strike up a conversation.

“Hey Cas,” the boy looked over and smiled gently but the teacher came in just as he opened his mouth to reply.

He was worried, tried not to be but after yesterdays ‘try again tomorrow today’s not a good day’ he still didn’t get the meaning, but it seemed like Cas was expecting him to understand. Whatever he meant by it, it didn’t matter because tomorrow was today. He wanted to go through with his friend plan and he didn’t want to wait till the end of the lesson to do so.

So he scribbled a note to Cas and threw it on his desk when their teacher had her back turned, writing on the board.

Cas grabbed it instantly and looked over, seemingly for confirmation that it was for him and he wasn’t meant to pass it on. Cas nodded in understanding and opened it.

 

‘Hello  
It’s tomorrow,  
I'm trying again,  
Today any better?’

 

Dean watched and waited nervously as Cas read it. The hunter grew in confidence when the boy ducked his head in an attempt to hide the smile plastered on his lips and the rise of blood in his cheeks, but Dean saw it and he was so glad he did. Cas looked beautiful like that. It was worlds ahead of the red rimmed eyed, lost looking Cas he’s seen before, he wants this Cas to stay forever. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he just sat there looking at the sight before him with his own smile. Proud he put that expression on his face. 

He looked over to the hunter and nodded, Dean took it to mean, yes it’s a better day, I’m glad you tried again, hello to you too and we’ll talk later, it was a lot for one nod, but that’s how he interpreted it.

Their teacher, Miss Oldham, a young slightly idealistic brunette with an obvious weakness for patterned jumpers began the lesson. They’ll talk later Dean thought as he began scribbling down notes. He wasn’t even freaked at how happy that prospect made him.

The next lesson Dean had was English literature with Mr Spec and it all went fine; the reading he’d done the night before helped him understand other student’s interpretations of the text, and even come up with arguments for and against their ideas. Which made him feel much better, usually he felt stupid and confused, and he hated that feeling. It wasn’t till the end of class when the teacher asked him to stay behind, did everything go downhill, dramatically.

It was about the essay plan he had done in the library and handed in yesterday.

“You know Dean, it’s not bad, a little sloppy and obviously hastily written but the idea itself is solid.” He wasn’t sure how to take such a back handed compliment so he stayed quiet. “You could do well in this class, you just need to apply yourself more. Pay more attention and study more. I just feel like you’re not really trying, which is a crying shame, you’re a bright kid.”

“I haven’t been trying?” he asked as calmly as he could, barely keeping himself from doing something violent and incredibly stupid. “I am applying myself the best I can.”

“Well your work tells a different story.” Mr Spec spoke calmly, holding up Dean’s work in his right hand.

“You know nothing about me, don’t you dare say I haven’t been trying.” Dean bite out, fists clenched and body rigid, trying his damnedest to keep calm. 

“I know you haven’t, probably too busy with computer games, girls and seeing you friends to think this is important.” Something inside of Dean broke, his restraint and grasp of the situation snapped. He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the last week or so, the sessions after school, his brother acceptance of his failures. Dean wasn’t sure, maybe it was the fact he had actually tried this time. He had tried and he put effort into his work and he is told it was not good enough. The young hunter didn’t know and he didn’t have time to figure it out. Before he could really process anything he had stepped into his teacher’s space and had opened his mouth to speak.

“I know it’s important! I don’t have a computer, I don’t have a girlfriend and the only thing I do after school is make sure my brother is okay, I'm too busy giving him a nice place to live to do the fucking reading. Too busy cooking his dinner and checking his homework to have time to worry about my own, so don’t you dare throw accusations at me, and don’t you dare presume to know anything about me!” He knew he had said too much, he knew it even as the words came from his mouth, but he couldn’t stop it. The urge to grip the man by the shirt and shake him until the message sunk in was almost uncontrollable.

The only reason he could stop himself, was a familiar voice shouting his name.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, fear present in his, that brought Dean back to himself. “Dean stop it.” And he did, he stepped back from man and took a few breathes, not realising how close he had gotten to him. “Dean it’s okay, you have time now, we talked about this, share the load remember.”

“Sammy you know as well as I do, that is never going to work. It’s my job…”

“You’re not mom!” his head snapped up at that, they didn’t mention her, never. “When I was a kid sure, you needed to be, you brought me up so well Dean you taught me everything I know, but you don’t have to now.”

“Sam.” Dean tried to reason with his brother but sam was having none of it not this time.

“What I need is for you to be my brother.” The teacher was silent, watching them with incredible intensity, listening to every word. 

The next class were also watching, Sam’s class Dean remembered. Perfect he thought more gossip.

He turned and walked out of the class room.

“Move.” He growled to the younger students, in his ‘hunter’ voice, the students immediately parted and gave him a path. He could hear them whispering about him as he stormed off.

He made his way to his next class because what else could he do? He entered silently and stayed silent when his teacher asked why he was late, there must have been something in his face because she didn’t push it.

5 minutes after sitting down he was summoned to the head masters office. He felt all eyes on him as he left, a cold shiver ran over him at the attention and left as quickly as he could.

The hunter was panicking as he made his way to the office, it had to be about his outburst. He knew they were going to call his dad, he was screwed. They’d find out John wasn’t with them. A small part of his mind thought it was a good thing, but the larger part of his mind pulled out his phone and dialled Bobby as fast as he could.

“Dean?” a familiar voice grumbled down the phone, worry evident in his voice. Dean called in the evenings to check in and ask for any news on his dad, not during the day, certainly not during school.

“Bobby, I screwed up.”

“What’s happened?” he asked straight away. The young hunter took a breath, Bobby wasn’t like his dad but he still felt the same sick feeling of nervousness as he open his mouth to tell his uncle of his cock up.

“I shouted at a teacher, I lost it, they’ve called me to the office, and I know they’re going to want to speak to dad. They can’t do that Bobby, they’ll find out dads gone, what if they take Sammy from me.”

“I see. It will be okay Dean.” His voice staying calm, instantly having the effect on Dean, “What do you need?”

“Will you be my dad? Can I give them your number?”

“Sure thing boy.” He let out a relieved breath, he could always count on Bobby.

“Thanks Bobby.”

“It’s alright. But we will be having a talk when you get home.” He wasn’t even worried upon hearing Bobby’s words like he would be if John had uttered them. Bobby wouldn’t; shout at him, tell him he was a failure, tell him he could get Sam killed one day, punch him, take away his food or maybe even throw him out for the night, his uncle wasn’t his dad, he was more.

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

After pocketing his phone he continued his way to the office, feeling better about the whole thing, but still kicking himself for losing his cool in the first place. He thought he had more control than that.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean found himself sat in the heads office, being stared at by the head, Mrs King and his councillor, Louise. Something he was not best pleased by but not overly surprised by either. They were all sat, the silence around them heavy, and it seemed to sit unsettled and heavy in his stomach. Though in reality the silence was probably a few seconds, to Dean it stretch on and on and lasted hours. Dean was uncomfortable and wanted the shouting and punishment to begin, but he didn’t want to break the silence either, so sat as still as he could. Except his fingers that were a little jittery, and simply endured the silent stillness in the room. 

The young hunter watched as the head took a phone call deemed as urgent and Louise flipped through, what was undoubtedly his notes. His arm was stinging a little, he could feel the pull of his skin and the warmth of the flesh from the healing. However considering the circumstances, the head finished with her call and Louise eyeing him, he resisted the urge to scratch or rub it, so not to draw any more attention. If that were possible.

“I think you know why you’re here Dean.” The head started snapped the boy’s attention completely on her, her voice firm and final. “Your outburst was both worrying and inappropriate.”

“I didn’t mean to, I just” Dean tried to defend his actions, but he stopped himself. There was nothing he could realistically say to make the situation better, he didn’t really have an excuse for what he did, she was right it was inappropriate. He slummed further down in his chair, Louise whom was sat next to him, noticed that he must have gave up, because she then spoke up.

“It’s okay Dean, when you hold your frustration and anger in for so long, it’s only a matter of time until it comes out. What I want to do is to discuss it and find a healthy way of you expressing your worries and thoughts,” she had a point he thought, he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I’ll apologise to Mr Spec and I’ll take my punishment.”

“We would like to discuss what has happened with your father but the number we have won’t go through.” He knew it, even though he had made arrangements the thought still made his stomach drop to the floor and throat swell.

“You don’t have to call him.” Suddenly worried they would know it wasn’t really his dad they would be speaking to.

“Dean, is there a reason that we need to know about why you don’t want you to call your dad?” Dean almost laughed at that, what was he going to say? That his dad is a bastard, a heavy handed bastard that liked a drink, sometimes too much, that he left his two underage sons in a motel room with a handful of notes and a stolen credit card that’s nearly at its limit, that’s its not the first time he’s done it, that he could very realistically be dead from one of the many supernatural creatures they all fight? He silently shook his head, though not looking at either woman in the room, he could tell they weren’t expecting any other response. Louise looked a little disappointed though, Dean refused to feel bad about that. “Are you sure?” she pushed and he simply nodded again.

“We do have to call him then Dean, you don’t understand how serious this is. If it wasn’t for Louise you would be suspended right now.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He handover over Bobby’s number and watched as the head dialled. He did understand though, he understood all too well. 

He did worse in some of the other schools be had been too. He understood the punishment the disappointed looks from Sam the anger from his dad, he just didn’t care then. He knew he would be gone before long anyway. Now though, he actually felt a little disappointed in himself. He didn’t know how long him and Sam were going to stay here. What he did know was that Sam was settled, he had friends and he was happier than Dean has ever really seen him, and even he was comfortable too. 

Even though he would have to get a job soon to pay for everything, staying in this town would be, nice. Not hunting, not travelling, not risking his family’s lives every day, it all looked really good right now. Maybe he could even find a friend too, a flash of blue eyes came to his mind, and maybe he could be happy too. 

For the first time Dean refused to feel guilty over his thoughts. They were just thoughts, silly ideals, and stupid hopes and would never and could never accumulate to anything. He knew his dad would come back eventually and he would take them back on the road. He also knew he would go without complaint; he would allow his dad to take it all away from him. 

He hated himself in that moment. Dean shook his head clearing his thoughts and concentrated on the phone call that was in process. 

“Hello, is this Mr Winchester?” “This is Mrs King, I'm the principle at Dean's school.” “Dean exploded at a teacher today, I am calling because we are worried about the things he spoke about.” “Well, like how he doesn’t have time for school work because he looks after his little brother and keeps the house.” “Dean's a smart kid but he is not fulfilling his potential, we are worried about his wellbeing.” “He is distant and doesn’t seem to care for school, almost like he feels defeated without trying.” “We understand that.” “Of course.” “We get that he hasn’t been very settled having moving around so much in the past,” “I see.” “We just wanted to see if anything at home could cause such behaviour.” “No, Mr Winchester” “Certainly.” “Thank you, good bye.” He couldn’t hear what Bobby was saying so could only guess at what was said.

“You’re father, said you will be staying with for the foreseeable future.”

“Really?” heart picking up even though he knew it wasn’t real but he couldn’t help it.

“Yes, which means Louise can create a longer term care plan for you.” Dean nodded, he was not in any position to argue. He looked overtot he women that for some reason he was growing more comfortable around. “Detention goes without saying Dean, lunch time today, with me.” He was expecting at least a week of detentions, he suspected Louise had something to do with that. 

“Okay.” He would take it, 

“But I want you to know that despite you being in trouble for a few fights in the past, none of them were without reason. We know that this behaviour is out of character and is a roundabout way of calling for help. We are worried and will work towards helping you.” Dean didn’t mention that just because he didn’t outright shout at teachers before at this school, did it mean he didn’t do it at other schools.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, confused why they both seemed to actually want to help him, no one really cared that much about his wellbeing before, he rubbed his arm gently soothing the healing wound.

“Dean, remember you can come to talk to me, whether we are due a session or not. My door is always open.” Louise told him who nodded in response he didn’t have any intension of taking her up on her offer, he didn’t even want the normal sessions, though he knew especially after today there was no way of getting out of them. “Okay Dean, I’ll see you at our next session on Tuesday.”

“I will see you at lunch time then Dean.” Dean nodded to both women before getting up and leaving the office. He didn’t want to go back to class and face the looks and the whispering yet, something he was certain he would have to suffer for the foreseeable future, so went to the library instead.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean managed to keep his head down and with great effort he avoided hearing the rumours now circling through the corridors about him. When the lunch bell finally rang through the school, he was grateful for the detention and was able to hide out in the principal’s office. Mr Spec was surprisingly, sitting with the principal when Dean entered.

“Hello Dean.” Mrs King greeted him.

“Hello ma’am. Sir.” He nodded to them from where his feet where suddenly rooted to the floor, he knew what he was supposed to do.

“Dean.” Mr Spec answered back, Dean took a breath and readied himself for the apology he knew was needed. He didn’t like the hard intense look in his teacher’s eye. It resembled so much of his father he didn’t want to pretend it didn’t scare him, so started looking at his feet.

“Sir, I would like to apologise for my behaviour. It was inappropriate of me. And it will not happen again.” 

“I hope so Dean.” He flickered his eyes up and was taken aback slightly by the soften look in his eyes, like the teacher was waiting for some half assed apology and start rattling of excuses. Dean didn’t do excuses he took his punishments. Mr Spec continued to speak, he didn’t sound angry but just as firm as he always did. “I am not accustomed to having my students threaten me.”

“That was not my intention.”

“I know, I know you’re stressed and you’re going through a hard time. I know that I pushed you. But that’s my job. I know you are more than capable of getting good grades and not only in my class. So I will continue to push for such good grades.” Dean was struck dumb for a moment. Mr Spec believed in him? Believed that he was worth pushing? That he was worth something? No one had ever given him another chance like this. No one had ever showed any form of mercy and persistence, as if Dean was more than an annoyance an unfortunate part of their job. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that formed there, eyes trained on his shoes so neither teacher would see the steaming of his eyes.

“Thank you.” He managed to crackle out of his dry throat, Mr Spec patted him on the shoulder before exiting the office, leaving Mrs King to continue her paper work and Dean to get on with ‘private study.’

 

With his head down Dean managed to get through the afternoon and before too long found himself making his way to his car to wait for Sam. He was greeted with a surprising but not unwelcome sight. Bright eyes was leaning up against his car. No one ever leaned on his baby but after such a stressful day he couldn’t bring himself to care when Cas looked to comfortable, so right against baby. 

“Hey Cas.” He greeted his new friend and slid an arm over the roof of his baby and across the back of the boys shoulders, touching slightly, meaning he was lent towards the boy, it was his flirting stance he realised when it was done. He didn’t know he was preparing himself to flirt, but again the position was right so he just went with it. To closeness was worth it alone to see the tinge of pink that crawled its way high on Cas’ cheek bones, adorable Dean thought.

“Hello Dean.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips that had Dean grinning back.

“How was your day?” It was another stupid opener but Dean didn’t know what else to say and didn’t want to stop their conversation before it had really began.

“Not nearly as dramatic as yours.” Dean winced, hated being talked about, even more so that Cas had heard the rumours.

“You heard about that huh?” dean asked, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

“Everyone has heard about it, it’s all I have been hearing all afternoon.”

“Dammit.” He muttered mostly to himself but Cas could obviously sense his discomfort and Dean melted a little when the boy made an attempt of comfort.

“If it’s any consolation, much of the talk is about bad ass Dean Winchester giving mean Mr Spec a talking too, not about the actual words.”

“That’s something I guess.” He did feel marginally better though, and looked into Cas eyes that had been playing on Dean’s mind since the moment they met. “So.” Dammit Dean thought since when does his voice go that breathy. “Any plans this weekend?”

“Nothing of import.” There was a moment of silent where both boys just looked to each other “You?”

“I’m thinking of looking for some work.” Why did he say that he thought, he hadn’t even told Sam, up to now it was just a half-baked idea in his mind, now though? Apparently it was his plan.

“Really? Like what?”

“I’m good with my hands.” he blurted out, he blushed instantly at the unfortunate wording, why was he so off his game today, since when did he want game whilst with Cas?

“I bet.” He replied, clearly a little embarrassed and a lot amused by the boy in front of him.

“Cars. I’m good with my hands on cars.” He want to clarify, still tripping over the words a little.

“I bet.” Cas repeated, still clearly amused, breaking eye contract t looked across the parking lot before at his hands. “Good luck.”

“You could always text me, or something. If you wanted?” Those blue eyes instantly snapped up, obviously shocked at the suggestion that Dean wanted contact with him outside of school, wanted to extend their interactions voluntarily. Anger and protectiveness flared up inside of Dean, stomach twisting uncomfortably. He suddenly had the almost uncontrollable urge to bring Cas to his chest to take him back to the motel room, make him laugh and feed him ice cream. He was incredibly thankful that reading minds was not a thing because the hunter knew that if anyone knew what he just thought he would never live it down. Almost more scarily though is the thought that if he got to do those things with Cas he wouldn’t care at all if people knew.

The silence stretched for a little while, Cas seemed to be searching his eyes for sincerity, Dean was starting to get uncomfortable but thankfully a slow smile appeared on the boy’s face and Dean could breathe again.

“Sure.” 

“Great.” He almost shouted, smile hue on his face. “Give me your phone.”

“Give me yours.” He recognised that tone. It was the same tone he has if people ask to come to his, and he suggested going to theirs instead, embarrassment. Cas obviously didn’t have the newest phone, maybe he was picked on for it. Dean didn’t question it or call him out on it and simply handed over is old flip phone, Cas’ eyes widened minutely upon seeing it but didn’t mention it, he typed in his number in silence.

“We could always, I dunno hang out or something, if you wanted, we don’t have to, I just,” stop babbling! He shouted to himself, but he couldn’t, he didn’t seem to have any control over the half sentences falling from his mouth. It was embarrassing, thankfully Cas didn’t seem like he was going to make fun of him, if anything he looked like it was endearing, it didn’t help Dean’s sentence forming.

“Hi Dean.” Chirped a familiar voice from behind him, he had never been so glad to hear his brother voice. Spinning around he greeted his brother a little over enthusiastically.

“Sam! Hi.” He took a little step away from bright eyes so they stood shoulder to shoulder instead of would may come across as something is wasn’t. It wasn’t dean repeated to himself.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked gesturing with a stupid smirk to the boy standing against his car looking a little sheepish.

“Sam this is Castiel, Cas this is my brother Sam.”

“Hello Sam.”

“Hi Castiel.” Well this was awkward Dean thought, he wanted to continue talking to Cas but he had no idea how to pick up from where he left of, he was in the middle of asking Cas to hang out with him, and he was now very aware he hadn’t got an answer.

“I guess I’ll text you, I may see you this weekend or something.”

“Yeah, okay.” They shared a smile before Cas pushed of baby.

“Goodbye Dean, Sam.” Sam nodded a goodbye and watched as Dean watched Cas leave for a moment, but stepped in before it got creepy.

“Wow, didn’t think I’d see the day you stumbled and stuttered your way through asking someone out.” He teased and Dean instantly froze, was he asking Cas out, like asking him out? His plan was to befriend the boy to keep him from being so lonely, to keep either of them from being so lonely.

“I was not asking him out.” He ground out to him as he unlocked his car.

“Sure.” Sam snorted as they both slid into their seats. “Then why are you blushing?”

“Shut up.” He shot back, it wasn’t a great come back but it was all he had.

“You know I don’t care right? I know you’ve been with guys before.” Deans eyes widened in shock and fear he didn’t know Sam knew of that side to him. It didn’t happened often but every once in a while. He saw a pair of eyes, or kissable lips or a great ass and he didn’t care what gender they belonged to he just wanted, needed that person. “Dude, you’re not as good of hiding it as you think you are.”

“Does,” his blood ran cold, he couldn’t even finish his sentence, if Sam knew did that mean-

“Dad doesn’t know.” He let out a breath instantly feeling 10 times lighter. “You could have just told me you know.”

“I know.” And he did, he knew Sam would always stand by him, no matter what. “It just never seemed important.” He said with a shrug as he pulled out the parking lot.

“If it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

“It’s not really, I’m not looking for anything serious or anything, it’s not like we’re in one place long enough for it to be possible, so it was never important who I’m with.” He was glad he was driving so he could focus on the road and not Sam’s face.

“What about Cas?”

“What about him?” He snapped back instantly, he didn’t want this discussion, he barely knew the boy, he hadn’t figured him out for himself yet, how was he supposed to explain him to Sam?

“Come on Dean, I have never seen to babble like that. You like him.”

“I wasn’t asking him on a date. The dudes lonely I’m trying to be his friend.” Which was true, that was his original motivation. So what if his eyes had haunted him all week, his lips were full and dry, hair looked soft and he was itching to run his fingers through it, that his ass although hidden under baggy clothes was obviously firm and rip, none of that mattered. He hadn’t sorted this out in his mind yet. With everything else going on, he hadn’t properly thought about any of that. Silence stretched between the brothers as Dean tried to sift through all this information pushed to the forefront of his mind, wishing his brother wasn’t in the car with him.

“And don’t think you can distract me from yelling at you for this morning.” Sam’s voice now harsh, the sudden interrupted of the silence in the car snapped Dean out of his thoughts so suddenly he couldn’t help jumping in shock at hearing it.

“Can you not?” he asked, he already carried enough guilt over the incident he didn’t want more. “I know I’ve screwed up, I know I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Sam mumbled, he could feel Sam looking at him, probably with pity so he concentrated in the road. “Would have thought you would have been suspended.”

“Na, just got a detention.” It was perfect he thought. “Loads of them, after school on a Tuesday and a Thursday.”

“For how long?” how long he thought, it couldn’t be too long or Sam would be suspicious.

“Three weeks.” Dean held his breath that it was an acceptable about of punishment for his behaviour, praying Sam would buy it.

“Seems fare.” Dean had a small smile of his face for the rest of their journey, if Sam saw it he didn’t mention or question it for which he was thankful.

 

When they got back to the motel, Dean had to stop himself from texting Cas straight away, he didn’t want to seem over eager. Instead he took himself to the bathroom where he took the dressing of his arm, pleased with its healing he wanted it to breathe for a little bit so left it off. 

After checking supplies he realised they were in desperate need of going shopping, with their dwindling amount of money Dean began writing a breakfast/lunch/dinner chart, making note of all the ingredients they had how long they would last and what he would need to get to last another week. Dean worked quickly doing this, he had been doing for years and it always impressed Sam how much Dean could stretch their money, even with John blowing half their weeks budget on another bottle of whisky Sam had never missed a meal.

“Dammit.” He muttered, as he went back over the numbers, he needed to stretch it just a little more for gas.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked hovering over his shoulder frowning a little at all the numbers sprawled across the page in from of his brother. Dean was glad Sam was confused he didn’t want his brother to do this, didn’t was him to worry like he did but he also knew he couldn’t hide it 

“If I don’t get a job this weekend, we’ll be walking to school for the foreseeable future.” He felt like a failure, not being able to provide for his brother, concentrating on his paper in front of him he heard Sam sigh. He knew it wasn’t directed at him, but his felt like it was and it stung anyway.

“Why don’t you just use the cards?” Dean was momentarily shocked by the suggestion, he knew Sam hated using stolen credit cards he always had an appalled and disgusted slightly constipated look on his face whenever Dean or his dad once them. Dean sighed in response, he really, really didn’t want to stoop that low.

“I have never been comfortable with that Sam.”

“You never seemed to mind.”

“Well dad is not someone to argue with.” Silence fell, they both knew that all too well. “I could go a few towns over tomorrow evening a hustle a few guys at pool, but that’s always a risk. I don’t want to risk wasting the petrol if no one’s gonna bite you know?”

“Don’t worry Dean, it’ll work out.” Sam told him with a smile, Dean knew his brother was trying to be supportive, but it irked him a little, yes it always worked out, because Dean always made it work, no matter what. No matter how much he had to sacrifice, he always made it work out for Sam. Sam never went without a meal because Dean had given up many of his, he went hungry so Sam wouldn’t have too. That was not about to change, Sam was right, it would work out.

“Always does.” Dean replied with a forced smile.

Once he was happy with the necessary adjustments for the shopping list he made his way to the door leaving the impala keys on the side, he shot Sam a sad smile and a shrug and began his walk to the grocery store as Sam began some school work.

During his nightly phone call to Bobby, Dean explained the situation at school the best he could without mentioning the counselling sessions. Dean was right Bobby didn’t; shout at him, patronise him, threaten him or talk to him like an idiot, Dean fought back the tears when he thought of how much more of a dad Bobby is to them compared to his real dad. He mentioned that he needed a job and after refusing money from Bobby he was told of an old friend of his in town that own an auto shop. He told Dean he would call him if Dean promised to tell him if they were out of money and to let him help. By the time he got off the phone, he was feeling a lot lighter, he had a good feeling, like maybe things really were going to work themselves out.

When he was comfy in bed, Sam snoring in the bed next to his he finally opened a blank text and tried to compose his first text message to Cas. After typing deleting and retyping several types he decided on a simple;

‘Dean: hey Cas, its Dean, how was your evening? :)  
\- 22:27’

He instantly regretted the smiley face and groaned into his pillow from embarrassment, god he thought. Sam was right. He liked Cas. Fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean: hey Cas, its Dean, how was your evening? :)  
\- 22:27

Cas: hello, it was okay, good as it can be. How was yours?   
-22:45

Dean: could have gone better I guess, but its ended well   
-22:47

Cas: likewise it’s good to hear from you.  
-22:50  
Cas: I had my doubts you would text me. I thought for a moment you would use my number against me.   
-22:51

Dean: I would never do that Cas.   
-22:53

Cas: no you wouldn’t, I know that. I was just being paranoid.   
-23:00

Dean: that’s fair enough. Like when I ask you to hang out this weekend I was convinced you would laugh at me   
-23:07

Cas: I wouldn’t do that   
-23:08

Dean: laugh at me or hang out with me?  
-23:10

Cas: laugh at you. Of course I’d hang out with you.   
-23:11  
Cas: you’re the first person to want to spend time with me in a long time.   
-23:12

Dean: people are dumb.   
-23:14

Cas: I agree.   
-23:15

Dean: so you wanna hang out?  
-23:20

Cas: it's bit late.  
-23:23

Dean: I didn’t mean now! Haha over the weekend sometime? :)   
-23:26

Cas: oh okay   
-23:33

Dean: when are you free?   
-23:34

Cas: I’m always free  
-23:35

Dean: Same   
-23:36  
Dean: tomorrow?   
-23:36

Cas: sure, sounds good. What would we do?   
-23:41

Dean: I dunno, maybe library? We could get some studying done?   
-23:46  
Dean: Cas?   
-23:55

Cas: if you wanted help with your work, you could have just asked.   
-23:56

Dean: what? No, its not like that.  
-23:56

Cas: if you say so.   
-00:02

Dean: I want to hang out with you, I do! Its just, me and Sam are kinda broke, I don’t have any spare Cash, I barely managed to fit gas money in the budget for the week, even a cup of coffee is out the question. If it were up to me, I would take you to the movies or this quirky little diner I found and love, but I cant, believe me Cas I want to hang out with you, the library was just the only thing I could come up with.   
-00:12

Cas: oh I see.   
-00:14  
Cas: I’m sorry for assuming the worse, I had no idea you were struggling so much. Is that why you’re looking for a job?   
-00:16

Dean: well I don’t like to publicise it, and yeah my uncle is putting a word in for me with a friend that runs an auto shop in town, so hopefully we’ll be okay soon.   
-00:19

Cas: I hope so.   
-00:20

Dean: thanks.   
-00:21

Cas: I guess the library would work, I was going to be studying anyway so it would be nice to do it with someone.   
-00:23

Dean: you can do it with me if you like ;)   
-00:26

Cas: I’ll buy you a coffee first  
-00:30

Dean: my, Cas you sure know how to treat a man ;)  
-00:33

Cas: I don’t know what to say to that.  
-00:45

Dean: you don’t have to say anything Cas I was just fooling around   
-00:45

Cas: I see. What time did you want to meet tomorrow?  
-00:46

Dean: after 12 I want to sleep in  
-00:47

Cas: 13:00?  
-00:50

Dean: sounds good  
-00:50

Cas: I’ll see you then then  
-00:51

Dean: sure will  
-00:52

Cas: good night Dean  
-00:54

Dean: sleep tight Cas x  
-00:59

Cas: x  
-01:20

Dean fell asleep with a smile across his face, he initially groaned into his pillow when he sent the kiss on the end of his last text. Time stretched on and he started to panic, but he knew Cas was a good person and they would be able to ignore this until it goes away and is no longer an issue. Before too long Cas sent one more text, he knew that Cas had himself freaked out upon seeing Dean’s message but had finally replied. The text consisted of a simple ‘X’ in the message, Dean grinned so hard it hurt, basically hugged the phone to his chest rolled to his side and slipped into the calmest sleep he has had in a while, dreaming of the prospect of seeing bright eyes tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning Dean was practically giddy, Sam had initially laughed when he told his brother he was going to the library for a study session, face falling when he realised it wasn’t a joke. Dean had never seen Sam look so proud of him, it made Dean puff out a little in response. The young hunters face falling in return when Sam offered to join him, when he slightly nervously told his brother the study session was with Cas, Sam was back to laughing again. Dean busied himself with packing his bags to attempt to hide his blush, Sam didn’t miss it and laughed harder in response.

11:00 and Dean was ready to go, he felt stupid for being so eager and was left sat at the small table cleaning his guns to kill time, again getting a laugh from Sam at his expense. 

It was a nice day outside so he decided to walk, and if the decision had a lot to do with conserving petrol and thereby money, neither brother mentioned it. Dean left the motel with Sam’s shouts of ‘Good luck! Don’t screw it up!’ ringing in his ears.

By the time Dean reached the library he had walked off most of his nervous energy, his hands were still a little clammy but he reasoned that it was because of the walk not from the feeling of seeing bright eyes. Getting there early meant he could select any books he wanted and choose a table and be ready for when he arrived. Before long the scruffy haired boy came in. Again he was subtly favouring one leg over the other but he had no plans to mention it, for now allowing the boy his secrets and privacy. They shared a smile upon greeting, Cas shoulder slumped a little, out of relief that Dean was really there and it wasn’t some evil trick. Dean hated the idea that someone had done something like that to the boy before, it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.

“Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean.” 

They settled quickly into studying, sharing a few comments here and there but nothing too heavy.

After a few hours Cas stood and left the room, the hunter just assumed he needed to toilet. He wasn’t prepared to see him come back a few minutes later with two cardboard take away coffee cups in hand. Once he was sat back down he shot Dean a shy smile and silently slid one cup over to him, who silently took the cup.

“I didn’t know if you wanted milk or sugar so I brought them with me.” He told him, emptying his pockets onto the table, there was enough sugar packets and individual milk packets for three coffees. 

“Thank you.” Dean told his friend in the most sincere manner he could.

“It’s nothing, I was thirsty, would have been rude not to get you one too.” Sharing another smile they put sugar and milk into their cups.

The hunter wanted to object, he didn’t want charity or handouts but Cas seemed really rather happy to provide a coffee for what seemed to be his only friend. He couldn’t crush that little proud smile Cas had on his face so instead drank the offered drink.

About 40 minutes later, Dean’s phone began to ring, excusing himself he went outside to answer the call.

“Hello.”

“Dean?”

“Speaking.”

“It’s Rufus, I had a chat with Bobby last right, I hear you are in need of a job.”

“Yes sir.”

“Any good at fixing cars?”

“Yes sir.”

“We’ll see. I don’t usually trust hunters, but you’re a good kid and I know why you need a job and Bobby vouches for you. Come by the garage tomorrow 10:00 and I’ll see what you can do.”

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

The young boy couldn’t keep the small pulling at his lips. This was it, his chance. He was a great mechanic, better than his years would suggest. He knew it, Bobby knew it and he was certain that if Rufus didn’t he would by tomorrow. He would be able to work for his money instead of hustling or stealing. He could provide for Sammy and make the boy proud of him, for once. 

He made his way back to Cas, steps feeling lighter, shoulders looser and spirit brighter. Bright eyes looked up and instantly returned Dean’s smiles, it was smaller and more reserved but it was there, that only made his smile broader. 

“Everything alright?” He asked him as his study partner sat back down on the hard library seats.

“I think I just got a job.” He proudly told the boy in front of hm.

“That’s great, well done.” The small smile as usually possessed broadened and filled with matching pride, Cas seemed genuinely happy for Dean. Dean noted how beautiful his eyes were when his smile reached them and crinkled them slightly in the corners.

“Yeah gotta go there tomorrow morning to prove myself.”

“Nervous?” Cas asked as they began studying again, both smiling wide and both trying not to look at each other.

“Na, I kick ass at fixing cars and Rufus is a friend of my uncle, I got this.”

“Well, good luck anyway.”

“Thanks.”

Before Dean knew it hours had flew past, he had to check the time twice to make sure it was right. Not once has he studied for so long, although they worked in relative silence, little conversations were had and jokes shared. It was comfortable, easy, even the silence wasn’t tedious. He found himself concentrating harder by Cas’ mere presence, that too, surprised him. If anything he would have thought bright eyes would have been a distraction but the boy had a strange calming effect on the hunter, one he had not experienced before.

It was 5:30, next to all his assignments were complete and he hadn’t eaten in hours but he didn’t want to say goodbye. It felt strange, the boy’s reluctance to leave the younger boys side, but there it was clear as day pulling at the boy’s gut. For a moment Dean even contemplated invited Cas over for food, he always cooks too much anyway, but just the idea of revealing that part of himself to Cas was so ridiculous to him he almost laughed. He couldn’t let Cas know he lives in the local motel with no parental figure, no way he could do that. Cas must have sensed Deans inner freak out and his whirling mind currently over thinking because he looked over,

“Dean.” He only had to speak quietly to get the hunters attention, Dean didn’t miss the small movement of his left hand on the table, as if he was about to reach out and thought better of it. Maybe it was a fleeting thought and Cas’ hand unconsciously jerked forwards slightly, either way Dean noticed it but didn’t comment on it. Though he was grateful he saw it nonetheless. “Are you okay?” He sounded so sincere Dean was taken aback for a few moments.

“Yeah. Just, getting hungry.”

“Me too” the boy answered, taking a breath before continuing. “Do you wanna maybe grab some food or something?”

“Uh, no, I mean yes I would like to, it’s just, I Don’t have.” Dean was stuttering, Dean does not stutter normally. Nervous chatter however is starting to become a habit around Cas and it is starting to become a problem. It was defiantly embarrassing, Cas though didn’t laugh or poke fun and Dean was grateful for that fact. Dean was also extremely grateful that Cas seemed to understand what he was trying to say without having to say the words.

“My treat Dean, when you start getting paid, it will be your turn.”

“I don’t know.” He wanted to say yes, he just hated the idea of charity or the thought that Cas was merely being polite.

“Okay, never mind, not important. Forget it. I guess I’ll just see you at school.” Cas made a move to pack away his books. Dean’s heartbeat instantly doubled in speed, he couldn’t let Cas go like this. He gave up so quickly as if he wasn’t used to fighting for what he wanted, like he was so accustomed to not getting what he wanted in life. The flush of his cheeks made Dean realise that Cas felt like an idiot for even trying. The sight made the hunter feel incredibly guilty. Of course he wanted to have dinner with Cas, that wasn’t even in question. He was just being stupid and full of pride because he didn’t want to accept charity. He certainly didn’t want Cas to have offered out of pity or obligation. But looking at the young boy now, seemingly berating himself for what he had suggested, Dean could tell that he hadn’t, it was a genuine offer. Cas had given up so quickly despite what he seemed to want and was cutting his loses, Dean wouldn’t stand for it, couldn’t. Right then and there the hunter made himself a promise that he would do anything the boy wanted, that all he had to do was ask. He didn’t question exactly why he felt so protective and interested in the happiness of a boy he barely knew, but that rare genuine smile of Cas’ made it all feel worth it, feel right. Dean was hoping for one of those tonight. Reaching out to Cas Dean gently covered the boy’s hand with his own. The hunter moved slowly and did not apply too much pressure onto his hand, so Cas would have plenty of availability to pull away. Cas’ eyes shot up at the feeling, they shared a small smile before Dean spoke.

“Yes, I mean no, Cas I would love to accept your invitation. I just have a hard time accepting handouts. I’m working on it.” He rushed the words. They toppled out of his mouth without much thought. The boy in front of him still frozen from the moment Dean’s hand clasped his, but on hearing his stuttering words, his smile became a little bigger and more genuine before nodding to the hunter, 

“Let’s go then.” They packed away their stuff and left the library together, both stomachs yearning for food, and both faces were smiling in their own way.

 

The diner itself was simple and delicious, just how Dean likes it. Dean had a cheese burger and fries whereas Cas shyly had a conversation with the manager before ordering a veggie burger and salad, Dean did not comment. They shared stories and jokes across the table and by the end of it, he felt as if Cas had always been a part of his life. The hunter had never felt anything like it before, it was new, overwhelming and completely crazy. 

The young hunter had to resist the urge to hit himself when he thought of the future of their friendship. Him and Cas were nothing but temporary, the thought physically hurt, an ache pulled the bottom of his full stomach, making it all the more unpleasant. 

Despite his dad being MIA again he’ll come back, he always did. When he did whatever was happening between the two of them, it was over and any potential that Dean maybe felt brewing was useless and over the moment John walked through that door and dragged the Winchester boys off again. Dean decided to forget those thoughts and to just enjoy the moment. Cas was visibly getting more and more comfortable and was speaking more and more. He still kept his jumper on and Dean unfortunately thought he knew why. The Same reason he didn’t roll his sleeves of his shirt up at the moment. His arm. Despite that, Cas’ stance was more relaxed and less rigid so Dean would count that as a win.

He didn’t want to end the night, it had been a long time since he could relax with someone who didn’t know all of his dirty little secrets. Who didn’t know how much blood was on his hands. Someone he could be an innocent civilian with. He didn’t remember the last time he could just be normal for a good few hours. To hang out with a friend, bitch about school and homework, laugh and share stories, just like a normal teenager. It felt good with Cas, it felt right.

With his job interview with Rufus tomorrow he did have to go home earlier than he wanted. They were near the motel so Dean could quickly grab the impala and drop Cas off but after offering Cas a ride home, several times, Cas declined his offer many times more. Dean didn’t want to push it, maybe like him, he had a reason to not let him to see where he lived, so the hunter let it go.

They said their goodbyes and made promises to text before parting ways, giant grin on Dean’s face.


	12. Chapter 12

The first thing Sam did when Dean came through the door was to tease to elder brother about his ‘date’.

“It wasn’t a date, bitch.” Dean replied instantly.

“Sure it wasn’t jerk.” Sam replied with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Shut up.”

“So how was your ‘it’s not date but it’s totally a date’ hangout?”

“It was fine, we studied and went to the diner.” Dean said as he took of his boots and made himself comfortable on the ratty sofa in their room.

“I thought we have no money.” Sam asked confusion on his face as he looked up from the book he was reading on his bed.

“We don’t.” the confusion in Sam’s face deepened, Dean swallowed before continuing knowing he was not going to hear the end of it. The hunter turned on TV and spoke without looking at his brother. “Cas paid.”

“Oh my god, you went on the date.” Sam exclaimed as a roar of laughter erupted out of his mouth.

“I got a job.” Dean replied ignoring Sam’s comment and laughter as he flicked through the channels. The accusation that he went on a date with bright eyes gave him a strange but not unpleasant feeling. Dean did not want to think about it so he did what he usually did, ignored it.

“Unsubtle change of subject but awesome, with Rufus?”

“Yeah going to see him tomorrow. Have you eaten?” Dean asked as he looked around to the small kitchen in the corner, littered with dirty pans.

“Yeah.”

“I can tell by the mess.”

“I’ll clean it up.” Sam saw the look on Dean’s face and rose to his feet to begin the cleaning. “Right now.”

For the rest of the night there was a peaceful, calm atmosphere in the motel that neither boy had felt in a long time, they knew things were looking up. They both stupidly naively thought they were going to be okay, that they had sorted themselves out. Dean felt very proud, proud of his little brother who was cleaning their motel room after having finished his school work and texting some friends intermittently. He was proud of the contented smile he wore. Dean was even proud of himself, a new but very welcome feeling, proud of his ability to provide for Sam, proud of the school work he had completed that day and the essay he was currently writing and proud of the small genuine smile he managed to put on Cas’ face several times that day. 

Cas’ face was hard to remove from his mind after it had entered. Sam’s words whizzed through his mind; ‘date, date, date, date, date, date, date.’ It wasn’t a date though, was it? Sure going to a diner was where he would take a girl of the first date. But this was Cas. Dean was struck by the thought that it had felt very date-like, but he didn’t mind. The idea of dating Cas seemed like a very nice thing to do. The kid was kind, shy, funny and as far as Dean was concerned; beautiful. Though he doubted he would ever say that out loud, not in front of Sam anyway. 

The thought of going out again with Cas; of going to the movies, going for a drive, of holding his hand, kissing those full pink lips, he found a goofy smile had plastered itself across the young his face at the idea of it. Sam was sat on the small table that had seen better days with his nose in a book so couldn’t see. So Dean allowed himself a rare selfish moment to think of what it would be like, how happy it would make him. 

Of course that’s where it ended and images of his father came flooding into his mind, destroying the tranquil peace the thought of Cas provided. He could see his father’s look of fury and disappointment of him forming attachments. He could almost feel the sting of pain from the strike of John’s fist that will be on his way as and when the elder hunter finds out. Dean’s smile turned into a frown all his worries came flooding back to him. ‘It’s just temporary.’ ‘he’s going to get hurt’ ‘you’re dangerous’ ‘it can’t last’ all of those worries that were screaming in his mind, silenced when Cas’ name appeared on his phone alerting him to a text.

Cas; Well done for the job again and good luck tomorrow :)   
20:48

And just like that Dean’s smile was back on his face, he has manged to protect Sam from both their father and the monsters they hunt, surely he could protect Cas as well. Sure sooner or later John will come back but nothing lasts forever. They could have fun and enjoy each other company until D-day arrives. He would have to talk to Cas but he would rather have Cas in his life, if only for a little while, than not at all.

Dean: Thank you  I had fun today x  
20:49

He replied, not being able to resist the ‘X’ at the end, smile broadening when he imagined the red flush spreading across Cas’ face when he saw it. 

Essay forgotten as the boys exchanged texts for the rest of the night. Sam went to bed around 10. He wished Dean luck again for the garage tomorrow, told Dean he wanted to see a few friends tomorrow, although Dean hated how nervous he sounded, the boy had never been free to hang out with friends. He was 14 it should be normal. After asking his baby brother where he was going and with whom, he told Sam to keep his phone on and to have a good time. It took the hunter by surprise when Sam launched himself at his elder brother and hugged him, tightly and whispered ‘thank you’ Dean hugged back. Physical affection was rare between the brothers, having a father that treated his sons as soldiers and not boys stopped the urge for it, but not the need. 

Sam was soon snoring in the bed next to Dean’s. The time said 00:00, Dean knew he should get to sleep sending one more text to Cas wishing him a good night. He went to the bathroom to take look at his arm, he cleaned the wound and gently patted it dry, leaving the dressing off, he brushed his teeth and stripped to his boxers. 

Dean found himself starring at the reflection in the mirror. He stared at the scars from the many hunts and too many close calls. He let his mind wonder, he started thinking what if; what if his mom didn’t die, what if they were normal, what would his body look like? Would he have scars? Normal childhood scars like falling off a bike, out a tree, not scars from a werewolf, from being thrown into a cabinet from a ghost etc, the hunter poked his firm stomach and a thought came to mind, would he have been fat? All the years of regimented training sessions, of running until he threw up, years of hunting for scraps of food, of going hungry so Sam would eat, there was simply no way he was getting chubby under his dad’s watch. Though it sounded nice, gorging on ice cream, eating crap on a Sunday’s, no 10 mile runs. He thinks he would be relaxed and content being bigger. If nothing else it might lessen the stares he gets from his peers at school and strangers in the street. It would defiantly make his father think twice about taking him on a hunt. That thought alone made him want to start eating. Dean stilled at that thought, he knew he was starting to resent his father and the life they live but did he hate the life that much? He decided not to think of it. He shook his head, left the bathroom and climbed into bed and switched off the light. What would Cas think if he were a few sizes bigger he thought completely by accident when drifting to sleep. He felt like an idiot, they had just met, have gone on one date, if it was even a date. Dean wouldn’t say no to it being a date but he has yet to know where Cas stood on the issue.

Dean finally managed to fall asleep around 1:30, despite himself he found himself nervous for the next day, he was pinning all his hopes on this job. Of paying his way, being able to buy things with honest money he earnt from an honest day’s work. Dean fell asleep with the thought of how proud Sam would be of him, of them, then he could throw away those stolen credit cards for good, dean slept with a smile of his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean woke up in good time the next morning from a surprisingly peaceful night. The events of last night washed over him as he looked around the room, the young boy smiled as his eyes skimmed over the clean kitchen and sides and the pile of completed homework on the table. The proud feeling still present and bubbling in his stomach. Dean couldn’t remember a time when he fell asleep feeling happy and content and didn’t wake up feeling the opposite, feeling guilt that ate away at his stomach making him feel sick. Dean found himself smiling, the moderately light future he could see when he fell asleep was still somewhat reachable when he woke. For once dean didn’t feel guilt and he refused to feel guilty over his lack of guilt.

Dean got up and stretched ready to start the day and get to his interview. He showered, used the bathroom and had some lucky charms. Ready to leave by 9:30. Sam was still sleeping not having to wake up until later, in order to meet his friends at 12. 

The hunter spared a few moments to simply watch his baby brother sleep. He looked peaceful, soft around the edges, unguarded and normal. It hit dean in this stomach when he realised his brother looked so different, when he looked like a normal 14 year old boy, different but so right, not one haunted by the truths and horrors of the world. Dean had done this, watched him sleep many times. It was usually when Sam was injured, if only slightly. Dean found he couldn’t sleep if his brother was hurt. That he had to make sure he was okay. Occasionally if he felt Sam was in danger on a hunt he was stay up and keep watch, it was his job to protect him; it certainly wasn’t John’s. 

He nodded to himself feeling satisfied Sam was safe and in no danger, and left for his interview with Rufus. Climbing into the impala he checked his phone to make sure of the time and saw a message from Cas waiting for him.

Cas: I’m not going to wish you luck because you don’t need it, instead I’ll say good morning x  
-8:00

The hunter could not stop beaming, it was such a simple thing but it made him feel giddy. Fuck, he thought, he had it bad.

Dean: Good morning to you too. I’m heading there now. I’ll let you know how it goes x  
-9:39

He had ten minutes before he had to get going, so he dialled Bobby’s number.

“Hello Boy.”  
“Hi Bobby.”  
“You got Rufus’ today?”  
“Yeah at 10.”  
“Don’t worry as long as you’re not completely useless he’ll offer you work.”  
“Thank you. Have you heard from dad?”  
“Not directly.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“Jody called me. She has heard that John is somewhere near Nevada.”  
“I see.”  
“If I hear anything more concrete, I’ll call.”  
“Thank you.”  
“You better get going boy, Rufus does not like being late.”  
“Okay, bye.”

Dean took a few breathes to process the information. He was glad John was alive but also glad he was very far away secretly wishing he’d stay there. Very secretly, he would never say that out loud.  
Rufus was exactly the way Dean remembers him from the few times they had crossed paths during the man’s hunting day’s years before. Stoic face, hard and he knew his stuff. Dean now had to prove that he did too.

“I don’t hire hunters as a rule. Too unreliable but Bobby has filled me in and vouched for you. So let’s see if you’re as good as he thinks you are.” Rufus told him as he led Dean into the garage.  
“Yes sir.” Dean replied, following him into the shop. 

Dean examined next to all the vehicles there, under the careful gaze of Rufus he diagnosed each of the cars. Rufus roughly nodded each time when he got it right. When the elder man was satisfied he theoretically knew his stuff he shoved a tool kit into Dean’s hands and told him to fix the blue BMW out the back of the shop then turned and made his way to his office.

Dean nodded to himself, it was going well he thought, he hoped. He made his way out back, putting the tool kit down and taking off his jacket he set to work.

Two hours later Rufus came to check on Dean’s progress, two glasses of water in his hands. His eyebrows raised when he saw that Dean was not working on the car, he was busy cleaning the tools. Dean accepted the offered drink with his thanks and he watched Rufus inspect his work. After a quick once over by Rufus he could confirm the car was fixed, the kid was good he thought.

“You can start right away. Monday and Wednesday evenings 5-9 and Saturday 8-4, sound good?”

“Yeah thanks.” Dean replied, not too sure exactly how to respond, if anything he felt a little numb. He did it. 

“I’ll pay you Cash in hand and I’ll pay you for the work you have done today. He is coming to collect the car tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you Rufus, it, it means a lot.” Dean told the man with shocking honesty as he rubbed the side of his neck, he didn’t realised how worried and tense he was about their lack of money until this moment when he shoulders finally sagged after what felt like months.

“I know. Must be hard for you boys.” Rufus told him as he clapped him on the shoulder as they walked back to where Dean had parked the impala.

“Not as hard as I thought it would be.” He mumbled with a sad chuckle in his voice. He wasn’t entirely sure why exactly he was being this honest. He had a feeling it may have been because he was talking to a fellow hunter, albeit retired. Maybe that was it, maybe it was because Rufus had left the life, he had gotten out. Maybe it was because he knew John, he met him and like many others, did not care for him much. The young man had heard the argument between them, Rufus didn’t like that him and Sam were in this life so young and John threaten him with a bullet. That happened a lot, even with Bobby.

“You have a choice boy, you’re still young. You can choose what you want from life.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean sounded so sarcastic and defeated even to his own ears, it almost made him cringe. He retched open the car door and was about to slide into the seat to left the garage and the situation as fast as he could. Before he could though, Rufus gripped his arm keeping him from escaping.

“I’m serious, you have a choice.” Dean looked down finding he couldn’t keep eye contact. “Here take this and be on time tomorrow.” Dean thanked him again, took the $30 Rufus pushed towards him and left.

Dean called Bobby to fill him in on the day’s events then he made his way back to the motel room, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. When he got back he found that Sam had left to meet his friends, leaving a note that told him where he was going and with whom and that he hoped he did well. Dean smiled at the note, he did very well. He knew Rufus’ offer of $10 an hour was probably too much, he also he that the man was a lot nicer than he tried to come across. But they both knew he needed the money so he wasn’t going to be bashful about it, he would be earning the money anyway.  
The hunter was feeling good about himself for the first time, probably ever. It was Sunday afternoon and he was alone, free to do whatever he wanted. He doesn’t remember the last time that happened. 

Deans teenage mind kicked in, he had no reason to deny his hormonal urges so he made his way to his bed unzipping his pants.

He would be lying if he said that bright eyes didn’t feature at all during his ‘alone time’. Though it wasn’t of any surprise to him. Considering he was the main thing that he had been thinking about the last few days. After, he relaxed on his bed, body relaxed in a way it only is after a good orgasm.

His mind flickered from one thing to another, unwillingly and annoyingly it stopped on English literature. He thought of the words his teacher had said to him about the essay plan, and then about his admittedly dramatic response. He produced the paper from his bag and looked over it. The teacher was right, it was sloppy and he had half assed it. He could do so much better. He decided to redo it. To prove that he is better than the rushed scrappy work he handed in. if nothing else it would give him a good opening for a proper apology. He was wrong to react the way he did, he knew it at the time too he just couldn’t stop himself. He knew he had already apologised but he was still high on anger and did not sound as sincere as he felt and thinking back to what Mr Spec had said to him, he deserved a real apology and real effort on his part. The hunter made himself a sandwich. Shot both Sam and Cas a text telling them how the ‘interview’ went and settled at the little table and began.  
Thanks to Cas, the day before he got all the work done that was outstanding and even to the quality he wasn’t embarrassed about, which meant he could concentrate on his essay plan.

His idea was to take the book ‘Frankenstein.’ And to discuss the line between science and the supernatural. It seemed an obvious choice since he has first-hand experience. He was also going to bring in other books that had a supernatural element to them, to back up or argue his points. Here was where he got sloppy, he didn’t have any of those books so he couldn’t plan them into his original piece. Dean still didn’t have any, but determined to do better he decided to pack up his stuff and head to the library for an hour or so, so he could find the books he needed. 

The hunter ended up getting sucked into his work and got back later than planned. Sam was already back and pottering around the kitchen area.

“Hey Sammy.” He greeted his baby brother with a smile as he made his way into the room.

“Heya Dean. How’s Cas?”

“Huh?” Dean asked confused.

“You’re note; ‘gone out won’t be too long.’ I assumed you met Cas.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Oh no, did you meet someone else? Why?! I thought you liked him!”

“Sam! Calm down. I didn’t meet anyone.”

“Then where were you?”

“I was at the library.” Dean saw the smile instantly stretch across Sam’s face. “Shut up.”

The rest of the night was relaxed. Dean made dinner, listened to Sam’s stories of what happened that day, his friends always sounded great he was happy for his brother.

He was happy for himself, for both of them. He couldn’t deny the urge to resume messaging Cas and did so for hours.


	14. Chapter 14

When morning came around and school was on the horizon, Dean was a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Excitement over seeing Cas and of actually handing in his homework. The last week has given him a new sense of pride. Pride in completing the work and pride of seeing the teachers shocked expressions when he put in an effort and handed in an assignment on time. The anxiety he felt was because of what had happened on Friday. 

He knew that students would still be talking. He also planned to talk to Mr Spec at lunch and apologise again and to hand him the new essay plan he had worked on. Though his ‘plan’ had evolved into more of a rough draft of his actual essay. Mr Spec made him uneasy, he told Dean that he was going to continue to push him for better. Something Dean was not used too. He found he wanted to prove him right. To try harder and that made him anxious.

Despite himself Dean couldn’t help looking out for Cas when him and Sam got to school. Sam knew, his smirk gave it away but he didn’t say anything so he ignored it. 

Despite his best efforts Dean didn’t see bright eyes that morning, he was tempted to text him, ask where he was but decided against it, not wanting to seem creepy or clingy.

Lunch time rolled around with little drama, Dean could feel eyes on him now and then but he either ignored it or stared them down. Either way no one approached him on the subject.

Dean found Mr Spec in his classroom at lunch time, at his desk marking papers, half eaten sandwich next to him. He was nothing if not dedicated, the hunter thought. Before entering the room he cleared his throat to rid him of the lump that had formed there when he reached the classroom.

“Mr Winchester, how can I help you today?” the teacher asked looking up from his pile of papers.

“Erm,” great start idiot he thought to himself. “I just wanted to apologise again for Friday.” Mr Spec blinked at him not expecting to see Dean again before his next class. “You were right, in part. The plan I gave you was rushed and sloppy.”

“I’m glad you agree.” He told the boy, Dean shifted a little before approaching his desk, Mr Spec placed his pen down this time instead of just looking up and watched the boy approach. Dean reached into his bag and pulled out the rewritten assignment.

“What’s this?” Mr Spec asked as Dean handed the wad of papers over to the teacher.

“I re-wrote it.” Mr Spec’s eyebrows rose as he silently tool the papers and flicked through them.

“Impressive Mr Winchester.” Dean had no response to that so he stayed silent and watched as he skimmed through the pages. “This is better, I want to give it a proper read so if I may, I will give it back tomorrow during our next lesson.”

“Sure.” Dean nodded and turned to leave. 

“If you want or need extra help or guidance with your assignment you can come to me. You can approach any teacher about the work and they will help.”

“Thank you sir.” He told him before leaving. He knew odds were he won’t be taking him up on the offer but he was glad to hear it. Dean walked the corridors, there was still a lot of his lunch left, he felt lighter after seeing Mr Spec so didn’t talk himself out if it when he pulled out his phone and text Cas;

To Cas; you wanna meet for lunch?

To Dean; I am outside on the bleachers, if you want to join me.

A broad smile grew across his face as he read the message, he turned and made his way outside as he replied.

To Cas; be there in a few minutes

Dean sped walked towards the bleachers, he was still getting looks and stares from students, no doubt gossiping about Mr spec and him, only this time the hunter didn’t care. He felt light and excited as he walked towards his friend. 

Dean spotted Cas, he was sat half up at the end of the far bleacher, book in his hands. He was able to take advantage of the moment, as Cas hadn’t noticed him, to let his eyes wonder over the boy. He ran his eyes over the boy as he approached him, to take him in, the way he held himself, the contrast of his skin and hair, his long fingers cradling what looked like an old and well-loved book. Dean took his time walking to enjoy the moment. 

Lunch was over all too quickly, spending time with Cas was always a mix of nerve-racking and calming. Dean didn’t have a word for it but he was quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of being in Cas’ presence, he couldn’t explain it, he merely basked in it.

As Dean worked on some cars after school at his first official job on his first official shift, he thought of his day and the time he spent with Cas during lunch, talking and laughing. 

He was nearing the end of his shift when he realised that he would trade every fist bump and nod in the hall, every glance of female students, every acquaintance he made at his school, to be able to spend his lunch times in the company of Castiel. The first and only friend he has ever had, the only person apart from Sam he had ever let close enough to hurt him and that both exhilarated and terrified him.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean’s routine was pretty solid, for the last three weeks he went to school, went to work, went to his counselling sessions; something that Sam was still somehow unaware of, Sam made sure he did his homework, they split the chores and shopping. He hung out with Cas as and when he could which worked out at least 3 times a week. Despite his schedule being more rammed that ever before, Dean felt freer and happier than he ever thought he could be. His grades were up, his arm was pretty much healed, his counsellor was proud of his progress and was talking about cutting his session to one a week, he and Cas text every day and Sam even told him he was proud of him. 

He was happy, though deep down in the pit of his stomach he was terrified. He knew he had a reason to be terrified, good things don’t last. That unwelcome thought kept the hunter awake more nights than he cared to admit.

His confidence and trust in his counsellor had grew tenfold since their first meeting. He spoke to Louise about things he never vocalised before; how he hated moving schools, how he resented his father for moving them around the country, he even spoke of his mum once, it was just a simple ‘I miss her’ but the young hunter felt a hundred times lighter. John never spoke of her, which meant both him and Sam couldn’t either, he shed a few tears in her office that day. 

Dean has known bright eyes for around a month, it wouldn’t seem like a very long time for anyone else, and probably not for Cas, but for Dean, Having a friend for a month was unheard of, laughable. Having a person in his life that wasn’t family, that wasn’t in mortal danger was amazing. He felt as if bright eyes had always been there, they spoke every day and hung out at least three times a week. The warm bubbling in his stomach from the initial attraction to the boy’s face had not disappeared or lessen in the slightest, in fact it has worsened. The hunter came to the realisation that he was not just attracted to his face; his lips, hair and those unforgettable eyes but to the boys laugh, his outlook on life, his soul and personality. Everything added together meant Dean had fallen incredibly deep   
for the guy that he was worried saw him as no more than an acquaintance. 

Sam had made fun of Dean for his obvious crush since day one, but in the middle of his teasing the week before, Dean blurted out the extent of his feelings for the boy. He confessed just how terrified he was, he never felt anything like it before, how he didn’t know what he was doing, how he knew it wasn’t going to work because of dad, he sobbed and told his baby brother that it killed him to see Cas every day and knew he couldn’t have him in any way and he certainly couldn’t keep him like he wanted to. Sam changed after that, he didn’t tease his brother anymore, he became supportive and encouraging, it had been the first real time Dean had opened up about anything real, Sam was not about to disrespect that and continue to be a jerk.

It was Sunday morning, the boys had been texting about plans to meet up. Dean looked around the room from where he sat on his bed, he has never told Cas where he lived. Hadn’t really divulged anything about his home life, apart from Sam, Cas knew all about Sam. He looked around the empty motel room, could he bring Cas here? Reveal to him one of his secrets? Would he find Dean’s life a joke? Would he loose respect once he knows he can’t keep his family together? After a few moments Dean decided he wanted Cas to know him, really know him. He invited the boy round and held his breath as he sent the invite.

Dean: do you wanna come round to my place today? We can hangout and watch trashy tv x”  
10:23

Cas: of course, if you want me too x  
10:26

Dean: meet me at the diner at 11:30? x  
10:27

Cas: okay, see you then x  
10:27

Dean started breathing heavily clutching his phone, he was really doing this. He was opening himself up to another person, he hadn’t done anything like this before. It was terrifying.   
The hunter took a few steady breathes before clearing away the guns he was cleaning, not the impression he wanted to give. He had around 45 minutes to get ready, suddenly nervous. The hunter swept around the room quickly and blitz cleaned it before jumping in the shower and changing into clean clothes. Almost time he thought. He shot Sam a text telling him Cas was coming over.

Sammy: what?! To the motel? Can you trust him?  
11:12

Dean: with my life  
11:13

Sammy: are you gonna tell him?  
11:15

Dean: tell him what?  
11:16

Sammy: how you feel.  
11:18

Dean; We have gone through this Sam I can’t  
11:18

Sam; yes you can, you just refuse to.  
11:18

Dean: don’t start. Please  
11:19

Sammy; just think about it. I won’t be back till he is gone.  
11:19

Dean huffed at his brother’s last text, he ran a hand through his hand as he checked the time and went to put his shoes on. Dean left for the diner to meet probably the best friend he has ever had.  
“Hello Dean.” Bright eyes greeted the hunter outside their regular diner a short walk from the motel.

“Heya Cas.” The smile Cas gave the hunter made the boy’s heart stutter and stomach twist. He had grown to love the feeling and even look forward to it. Though this time wasn’t the same, he knew what he was going to do, where he was taking the boy, his stomach dropped again this time unpleasantly as he pictured just how badly today could go.

“You alright? You look a little pale.” Cas asked taking a small step closer to his friend, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“I’m okay Cas.” He answered and received a raised eyebrow from Cas, he knew he couldn’t lie to the boy. Dean sighed before trying to put his fears into words. “Just, I have never brought anyone home before, no one has seen how we live. I don’t want you to hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you.” Cas told him without hesitation, they were still standing extremely close, neither minding. Bright eyes was able to reach out and take one of the hunter’s hands in his own. “Never.” He whispered when their eyes met. 

The hunter was taken back by the honesty in found in them and the sincerity he heard in his voice. They stayed that way for a little while, Dean took advantage of the fact that Cas didn’t seem uncomfortable or in any hurry to move. He gazed into the eyes of the one person he trusted outside of family and hunting. The one person he would ever consider leaving the business for. He looked into those eyes and tried to memorise them; every swish of blue, every subtle change of shade and committed them to memory. The hunter wasn’t an idiot he was exactly that, a hunter, he knew him and Cas couldn’t last. He knew they had an expiration date. He knew he was being selfish having this friendship, this closeness with bright eyes even though despite his deepest wish, he would have to say goodbye and it would hurt. Really hurt more so than any physical injury he had ever received and he had received a lot, from monster and father alike. Dean took a breath memorising also his smell before stepping back to put some distance between them, Cas let him and let his hand drop, seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil.

“It’s, uh, It’s this way.” Cas nodded and they made their way together, both seemed content to walk in silence.

“Are you taking me to a motel room?” Cas asked when he followed Dean into the motel car park, the hunter threw a wink over his shoulder at the boy as he fished out his keys from his pocket, not knowing what else to do, with the way his heart was pumping he could feel it in his tongue, he did not trust himself to speak. The hunter unlocked the door and stepped inside Cas closely behind him. Cas watched as Dean took of his jacket and threw it on the bed closest to the door, he seemed to scan the room from where he was standing stock still, making Dean nervous. “You live here?”

“Home sweet home.” Dean joked as grabbed two bottles of water and sat himself down on the couch and watched Cas follow suit.

“Who lives here?” Cas asked after looking to the two beds in the room.

“Me and Sammy.” The hunter replied passing a bottle to Cas who took it with a nod of thanks. They were silent for a few beats, Dean’s nerves getting more and more intense as he watched Cas glance around the room.

“Where’s your dad?” straight to the point he thought, no going back now, bright eyes deserved the truth anyway well, most of the truth.

“Don’t know.” Dean said sounding calmer then he felt, he had a swig of water going for nonchalant 

“What?” Cas asked shocked, looking like he did not believe what he had heard correctly.

“He left.” Dean replied hoping that would be the end of it and he wouldn’t have to explain any further, the hunter had never been so lucky.

“When?” Cas asked as he moved slowly towards Dean, he could tell he was getting visibly anxious with this line of questioning but Cas had to know.

“Like a month ago.”

“When, when will he be back?”

“Dunno.” Dean half shrugged and spoke with a smirk though either boy believing his calm façade “hopefully never.” He mumbled to himself as he took another swig of water.

“What?” Cas asked despite knowing he was in choppy waters and pushing Dean was not the best idea. He was right, Dean slammed is drink down onto the table and took a few breathes, eyes tightly shut.

“Cas, can we drop it?” It was in no way, shape or form a question or suggestion, Cas nodded hands splayed in a surrender gesture and stepped backwards. 

“I’m sorry.” Hearing Cas’ words made Dean feel even worse than talking about his dad. He sounded just like he did when they first began talking and became friends, meek, unsure and, scared. No other word could descried it, in that moment Cas was scared of him, his heart sank, he couldn’t have that. Without a second thought, the hunter darted forward to stepped into Cas’ space quickly speaking,

“No, I’m sorry.” he gently took his hands lowered them and ran his thumbs over them, they both stayed silent for a few moments. Dean took the moment of calm to quickly try and find the words to make things better. They stayed mere inches part, neither caring they were essentially holding hands and could feel each other’s breath on their faces. In some ways it made it easier for Dean to speak, he tightened his hold on Cas’ hands slightly, who squeezed back in return, closed his eyes and whispered his confession, almost directly into the teens ear. “I’ve never shown anyone this. It’s too real, it’s terrifying you being here, I’m terrified and I have seen and done some horrible, horrendous shit. But this? You being so close to my real life. It terrifies me.”

The boys stayed quiet for a moment, Dean opened his eyes, he dreaded seeing disgust, mocking, hatred, what he saw was sympathy, empathy and a definite glint of affection which made his stomach knot. Cas silently lifted one of Dean’s hands to his mouth and gave his knuckles a light kiss. Dean inhaled silently, taken aback by Cas’ boldness and the truth in his innocent gesture.

“My mum drinks.” Cas mumbled into the rough hard skin over Dean’s knuckles. Dean returned Cas’ silent gesture of support by pressing a gentle kiss of Cas’ forehead. 

“Shall we watch TV?” Dean asked after a few minutes, somehow his arms ended up slowly trailing up and down Cas’ arms in a slow intimate embrace, he tilted his head slightly to look at Cas, who’s hands had found themselves gripped onto Dean’s shirt, forehead of shoulder. Dean wanted away from the heavy atmosphere they had created but didn’t want Cas to think he regretted what had happened between them. For the first time in his life he fought hard to not joke his way out of a situation.

“Sure.” Cas stepped away and nodded, the two boys shared a smiled and the awkwardness Dean expected was nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone that has commented or left kudos it really means a lot :D
> 
> I am hoping another chapter will be uploaded today


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is self-harm and depression in this chapter, not too graphic but its here, please be prepared, if it is not something you can or want to read then please skip the chapter

The two boys spent the next two hours binging of crappy TV, the moment they shared was not brought up, and neither were their confessions. Though they both seemed content to sit closer than they normally did; thighs pressed together, Dean’s arm stretched across the back of the couch and Cas leaning slightly into Dean’s body.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, Cas looked over and smiled softly and spoke with nothing but honesty.

“Anything.” It was true, he trusted Dean, completely. He was scared at what the question would be but he knew whatever it was that Dean would listen and not judge him.

“Why do you always speak to a manager before ordering food?” Dean asked, he knew of a hundred different, deeper questions he could ask but right now, he didn’t need to force Cas to tell him anything he wouldn’t divulge on his own. He just hoped he had time to wait until Cas opened up to him voluntarily. Cas let out an amused laugh before he answered, smile much bigger than before.

“I’m a vegan Dean.” The hunters eyes bulged almost out of his head at that, all he could think was how? What? Why? The idea of such a life style just seems ridiculous, despite the hunter having probably the most unique lifestyle out of everyone in the town.

“Really?” Was the only thing he could mutter whilst trying to get his head around what it meant.

“How have you not noticed?” Cas asked, line creasing a little on his brow, worry starting to line his voice. Dean thought about it. How had he not noticed? 

“I get distracted by food.” Dean mumbled, making the boy next to him relax a little and laugh. It was true to some extent he had been very focused on eating, on being free to eat what he wanted because he had his own hard earned money in his pocket. 

“I know.” Cas shot back with a small smile, Dean barked out a laugh in response as he gently pushed his shoulder, before the hunter settled back on the couch, closer than before, voice a little quieter, making the boys feel the situation was more intimate that it was, Dean didn’t seem to mind. 

They sat in silence for a little while re focused again on the scene in front of them. Dean wasn’t paying much attention however his mind stuck on the fact the boy next to him, the beautiful blue eyed boy next to him was a vegan, something Dean would have scoffed at and made fun of had it been anyone else. He began to think about it, about all the times they had eaten together and how obvious it was when he really thought about it. The realisation he had was both startling and warming; he realised that he never really paid any mind to Cas’ food, he was more interested in Cas. The way he smiled with his left side more than his right, the way his hair was always tussled and looked incredibly soft, the way he smelt; the hunter couldn’t describe the scent, it was soft but strong, sweet with a definite tang of, something. Dean tried many times to name the different things he could smell when he found an excuse to get close enough to the other boy. Yet as of yet has never been able too but it didn’t matter because whatever it was, was beautiful, was just so completely Cas. It had quickly became is favourite thing to smell. His bright eyes, the first thing he noticed about him, the blue was deep and striking and never failed to made Dean’s stomach jump ever so slightly every time. The boy was perfect, troubled and a little broken and maybe not conventionally perfect but perfect to Dean, perfect for Dean. Bright eyes meant so much to Dean in such a short amount of time, he had changed him unintentionally from a show off cocky teen with a swagger an a flirty smile and wink, to an actual human being that reflected who he really was, a caring loyal friend. The hunter cared more about someone real in his life, someone pure, someone he could connect too, than all the longing stares and high fives he would receive in the hallways. They were shallow and empty in comparison, compared to what he had managed to forge with Castiel.

Dean didn’t realise he was staring until Cas turned to look back at him, making the hunter jolt out of his thoughts. 

“Why are you a vegan?” He asked, realising he had to say something and it was the first thing he thought of.

“Are you making fun of me?” Cas asked shoulders dropping slightly and eyes went to his lap upon hearing his friends words. Dean regretted his question instantly, his heart clenched as he saw bright eyes curl himself up to ready himself for an onslaught on insults, it wasn’t right, Dean hated it. He reached out, placed a hand over Cas’, waited for the boy to meet his eye before he spoke, with as much sincerity as he could muster.

“No. Cas I would never. I’m just asking. You’re used to getting a hard time about it huh.”

“Everyday.” He whispered in reply, Dean smiled and waited patiently for Cas to think of the right words to a question he has been asked many times but only now having to come up with an answer. “I know what it is like to wish I was dead.” Fuck Dean thought, his stomach dropped and bright eyes continued, grip on his friend’s hand tightened a fraction. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, I can’t be responsible for having other creatures feel that way. I know how much my body struggles and fights to survive, no matter what I put it through. I can only guess how much a body fights to live if they don’t want to die. It breaks my heart and I can’t be a part of that.”

“Wow.” Is all Dean could think to say. He hadn’t ever really thought of not eating meat as an actual thing, whether it were right or wrong never came to his mind, it was just something he did naturally and frequently. There were a hundred questions Dean could have asked to deepen the discussion. To try and gather more understanding on something that was obviously very important to someone very important to him. Though all of it seemed meaningless the more Cas’ words sank in. ‘I know what it’s like’ ‘no matter what I put it though’ the hunter felt a knot form in his stomach and heat prickle behind his eyes as he pictured his Cas alone; thinking, feeling and doing such things. “Do you still wish you were, you know.” He couldn’t say the words, he didn’t even want to think them. Sure he felt that way on occasion, after a particularly bad hunt or a particularly excessive punishment from John but that was different, that was him. Cas deserved more he thought, Cas was more, so much more. Thankfully he understood Dean’s question and smiled sadly at him, looking away as if it would make talking about it easier. 

“Not as much as I did. I used to be alone. I had no one. Now I have you. You have shown be kindness and friendship, something I thought I was forever forbidden from. You showed me I was able to be liked, that was someone worth being with. You have given me strength to realise my own worth, I didn’t think it was possible. I have a way to go, I still have dips but I can usually ride them out.” Dean was now gripping onto both Cas’ hands who gripped them back. The hunter’s cheeks were wet as his heart broke a little. He gulped swallowing his fear for the answer before he asked,

“Usually?”

“Usually.” Cas repeated, they silently moved on the couch until Dean was on his back staring at the grubby stained, peeling yellowing ceiling and gently pulled the boy down next to him. Encasing him in his arms and holding him against his chest, his heart. They stayed that way for a long time, silent, no need for words. It was clear they had created a safe place between them. On the tatty motel couch they were protected from the world, they had each other in their own protective bubble, they needed no words for that. 

Cas has his head on the hunters chest listening to the rhythmic beat of Dean’s heart, as he gently ran his fingers lightly across his chest in random patterns as Dean did the Same up and down his arm.   
“Is that why you wear long sleeves?” Dean asked out the blue after his hunter instincts to inquire and protect became too strong. He felt the boy tense in his arms, it was too late to take it back, too late to return to the warm safe place they created, great Dean thought. Another thing he ruined.

“Is that why you do?” Dean had to think about it. It had become habit to push his sleeves down instead of rolling them up after the demon arm cutting incident, he didn’t realise he did it anymore. It hit him how similar they were, or at least appeared to be. No Dean thought, they were strikingly similar; both lost, both broken and scared and desperate to not be. He could hardly expect Cas to be honest with him if he wasn’t in return.

“Yes.” Was spoken matter-of-factly. He placed a small kiss to Cas’ hair before he spoke again “I didn’t mean too, I mean I did but not to hurt myself.” He paused for a moment trying to form his words in his head. “That’s why I started counselling, it was all one big misunderstanding.”

“Is the counselling helping?” Cas whispered, voice coated in obvious hope laced with worry as he gently tightened the grip of his arm around Dean’s torso and returned the innocent kiss from Dean with one over his heart. Dean thought about it, about how and why this all started and how everything has changed so rapidly. He did do it to save his brother in the name of duty, that part was true he would die for his brother without a second thought. The more the incident was brought into focus and the more people assumed the details and circumstances, the more Dean tried not to think about it. Although it was true he had never picked up a blade with the sole intention of causing himself harm, he had come to the realisation in his counselling sessions that it did make him feel alive. That when he lost in a fight, it gave him a rush, when John punished him, the pain was something he felt more of, than pretty much any emotion, since the last time he was hurt. It was when he realised this, that he realised a few heart breaking home truths; he did need help. He wasn’t in a great place. He needed someone to care, to push a little, he needed not to have to be strong for a little while. He stopped fighting with his counsellor, he started talking more and started trying to change things. 

He had ended up telling Sam the truth about his ‘detentions’. Sam listened as Dean told his brother that despite how he ended up in therapy it was something he didn’t know he needed. That he realised that helplessness, hopelessness and depression had become so normal that he didn’t recognise them as anything other than his normal personality. That he accepted them as he did with everything else in their lives. He finally told his brother about the doubts he had about ‘that family business’, his desire to stay in school, to continue to get A’s, to graduate and to open his own garage one day. He even told him about his desire to take Cas on an official date, without the eternal crushing fear John would turn up and hurt Cas and drag him away. Dean cried, Sam cried. The brothers hugged, and new respect formed between them. 

Dean felt lighter like his dreams might happen, that his life might be his to control, that he would get better, that there was hope. So yes Dean thought, counselling was helping, it was helping beyond words. It was giving Dean the first chance he ever had to question and freely think about his life and the direction he wants to take it. Though he knew it was useless deep down, he knew he had no choice, but it made him feel better to pretend a few times a week otherwise. It was something Louise was working on.

“Yeah.” Is what Dean responded with, there was too much to say for him to try to explain, maybe another time he thought. The boy in his arms nodded before shifting slightly against Dean’s chest to release his arm that was laying between them. He silently started to push his jumper sleeve up. The hunter quickly grabbed Cas’ hand stilling the boys movements. “You don’t have to.” He assured him quickly not wanting bright eyes to feel pressured or forced.

“I trust you.” Dean has never heard anyone apart from Sam tell him that before, for a split second a lump formed in his throat. Time seemed to slow down for the hunter. He watched Cas reveal his small pale wrists and slowly push the material up his arm. The lump in Dean’s throat was back, now for a completely different reason. The sight of Cas’ arm was made Dean want to cry or throw up, or both. Covered in scars, some faint, white and barely visible anymore, others not so much, others bright and angry looking, various shades of pink, a few deep purple and raised, a practically fresh wound ran down the top of his arm, it looked red and angry with dark sticky marks on either side as to where sterri-strips were stuck probably until very recently. It looked painful and easily reopened but at least it was clean. Tears left down the hunter’s cheek, as he pressed his lips firmly to Cas’ head who was now shaking like leaf.

“Cas.” He whispered as he gently touched his arm, Dean’s heart broke more the more he looked. Bright eye’s arm had obviously taken years of abuse, there were scars on scars on scars, a variety of length and severity. All the scars the hunter has received and given through the years, none of which made his stomach drop, none made his heart squeeze and none made him feel like a failure as a hunter and a friend. He knew Cas was hurting, he knew Cas needed help, he also knew that Cas was hurting himself, he just didn’t know it was to this extent. “How can I make you better baby.” He demanded softly as he started placing small kisses to various scars on the boy’s arm.

“Only I can do that Dean.” Cas croaked out, tears flowing the Same as Dean’s. Cas gently took his arm back, out of Dean’s grasp and sat back up separating them slightly, seemingly embarrassed.  
“Let me help, let me in.” He whispered into his ear after he climbed behind the boy on the sofa, encasing his legs with his own and wrapping his arms around the boy, head on his shoulder and love in his voice.

“I could say the same to you.” Cas retorted, head leaning against the hunter’s and hands running over the other boy’s arms. He gently stroked over the mostly healed cut on Dean’s arm and the many light lined scars that dotted his skin

“I’m not important Cas.” His arms tightened as he continued, “You Cas, your life, it means something.” Cas shook his head, and turned in Dean’s arms facing him, feet under the hunters thighs and legs crossed and knees resting on top. Dean’s arms stayed wrapped around Cas, whose hands were now resting on his neck. His thumbs gently stroking the boys jawline as he stared intently into his sparkling green eyes, head tilted slightly, as if Dean was a puzzle was a trying to solve. 

“You hate yourself Dean and I can’t seem to figure out why. You’re perfect.” Cas’ voice was so intense and honest Dean couldn’t stop the blush that crept onto the his cheekbones and the tip of his ears. Dean tried to keep eye connect with the boy but his blue eyes were looking too deep into him that he couldn’t quite handle it. The hunter looked away and shrugged, trying to play the whole conversation off.

“I don’t hate myself. I just know my place in the world.”

“What’s that?” He asked gently.

“To die fighting.” Dean answered after a few moments of silence as the hunter thought about it. He didn’t like the conclusion he came up with, whether he liked it or not it was unavoidable he thought pessimistically. “As soon as my father gets back he will take Sam and me away again, dragging us along in his mission and making us join in. I don’t have a choice. School doesn’t matter cause that is   
what I am going to do till I die.”

They were silent for a while, both taking in Dean’s words. Cas leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Dean’s mouth and rested their foreheads together. “Everyone has a choice Dean.”

“Not me.” He argued back, the hunter spoke with such conviction and surety that Cas knew he couldn’t argue back. All he could think to do was try to communicate everything without words. The boy wrapped his arms arounds the hunter’s neck and held on tight, Dean squeezed back. They barely spoke throughout the next hour, they had manoeuvred themselves back to laying positions, this time Dean’s head was resting on Cas’ chest who was running his fingers through the boys hair whilst holding him tight with the other arm. Dean could not remember when he was so relaxed and his guard was down so much.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Cas whispered not wanted to break the bubble of calm they had created.

“I don’t want to leave you.” It was true, he would give anything to be able to stay in this town, in this school. Not only for him but for Sammy too. He rarely voiced his wishes and dreams, he has always felt it was a weakness he couldn’t afford to have, to speak with such honesty to lay himself bare so much, usually terrified him. Usually he would give anything not to put himself in such a position that people could have that kind of power over him. He trusted bright eyes though, for the first time in his life, it didn’t terrify him he felt safe to open up with Cas. 

Dean wasn’t sure who moved first but their lips connected in a gentle embrace. A slow and soft expression of love, a silent promise and an exclamation of hope. One kiss turned to two, turned to countless. Soft and slow turned faster and harder, two lost and broken souls seeking love and comfort turned to two teenagers wanting closeness, skin and friction. Two lust driven boys needing to feel   
something with the one person they felt something for.

Before long Dean was straddling the smaller boy, his arms were under his shirt and mouth was making his way down his neck and across his collar bone and back again whilst Cas’ hands were in the hunters hair in a firm grip. Neither knew how long they were there for, could have been minutes, could have been hours. They were both too absorbed and focus on each other to worry about such a frivolous thing like time.


	17. Chapter 17

Dean could not remember a time he had felt so free and happy, so content with his life, so relaxed and comfortable. He went to school pulled better grades than ever, worked hard for Rufus, studied in the evening and spent as much time with his boyfriend as possible. 

It had been a month since Dean and Cas’ first kiss, the hunter had never had a relationship lasted so long. A relationship, it still made Dean smile to think about it, he had never had any sort of relationship outside hooking up and flirting. 

That day, the hunter and bright eyes had spent hours on the couch, more than just making out, they also talked, laughed and cuddled. It felt so foreign yet so natural it took him by surprised.   
The two boys stayed in that private safe bubble they had created until Sam got home. They sprung apart with little success and end up sprawled on the floor. Sam being ever the supportive brother laughed at their flushed faces, exclaimed that he was right and it was in fact a date before demanding that Cas stay for dinner. 

The look of surprise, gratitude and pure happiness on Cas’ face sent bubbles flying in Dean’s stomach, he knew then that it was worth it, that he may be selfish wanting something that he knew would end, but having Cas for a small amount of time was worth the pain, and 1000 times better than the pain and regret of never having the boy at all. 

The hunter knew he was selfish but he wasn’t a dick. He spoke the bright eyes and they both felt the same, and agreed to take life one day at a time. The hunter sat Sam down fingers laced with Cas’ on the table to tell his brother the news, who smiled and hugged them in return. That settled things in Dean’s mind, Sam approved. He was after all, he was the only person whose opinion mattered to   
him regarding him and Cas, apart from John but Dean was not thinking about that.

In the month the two boys were dating and dating publicly there had only been one incident at school concerning it. It was shut down quickly and abruptly, but not Dean. Cas had punch his old bully in the face when he started berating their ‘sickening lifestyle’ Dean cheered, the bully cried and everyone carried on with their lives. The hunter felt nothing but love and pride in Cas’ new ability to stand up for himself. So much so that he couldn’t stop himself from smashing his lips to the smaller boy’s as soon as the bully scurried off. 

John had been gone for two months, the boys still missed and worried about him, they kept up with calling hospitals and hunters and checking in with Bobby every day. But the longer the hunter was gone, the more the boys wished that in John’s narrow sighted hunter mind, hell bent on nothing but revenge he had simply forgotten about them. The more the boys wished and prayed the home they had created in this town could stay their home. With each passing day with no word from their father the more they dared to hope it were true. Dean knew deep down though that it was simply a matter of time. He knew that the longer it went on for, the harder and more painful it would be, but one look to his boyfriend and he couldn’t bring it in him care. 

The boys were enjoying a lazy Sunday in front of the TV, on the same ratty couch that started everything. Dean got up from his position on the couch, with cas’ feet on his lap and sat next to Cas’ hip, who was laying on his back. He simply looked, one hand over his heart, he stared at the face of the boy that had changed him completely, that had saved him. He placed several chaste kisses to various places of Cas’ face, before Dean leaned on his elbows, face inches from Cas’ as he looked down and stared at the flushed, beautiful boy below him who stared back with the same look of wonder. The boy was truly beautiful Dean thought, it would tear him in half to leave him. Dean found himself thinking how easy it would be to fall in love with the boy, how easy it would be to accept he was already there. They smiled softly at each other the three words on the tip of Dean’s tongue. Could he say it? Could he go down that road? It would make everything so much more complicated and a hell of a lot harder. It would make it real Dean thought, the thought excited him instead of terrifying him, it was a new and beautiful feeling.

The hunter cupped Cas’ cheek, stroking the warm skin slowly, he paced a soft kiss to the boys forehead, his cheek and the tip of his nose, a beautiful feeling he thought again. “Cas, I love”

Bang

Before the hunter could finish, before he could finish his first ever love confession the motel room door swung open forcing both boys out of their protective bubble and crashing back down to reality. 

Dean heard the noise and his instincts immediately kicked in, jumping to the floor next to Cas he crouched on the floor one hand on Bright eyes’ chest to keep him down. They stayed silent and paralysed for a few seconds before a horrible familiar voice boomed throughout the room. 

“Dean!” 

“Dad?” Dean asked not quite believing his ears, praying and hoping he was wrong. He stood up, looked towards the door and he felt his heart shatter into thousands of pieces.   
No, he thought. No. He was back.

“Dean! Glad you’re okay. Pack a bag we’re leaving.” John said as he walked through the kitchen area looking around the surfaces and not looking at his eldest son. Dean was stuck frozen on the spot, this couldn’t be real, could it? After all this time, could he really come back and knock everything he built down so easily. When the young hunter didn’t respond right away John finally looked at his son, anger already present of the man’s face. “Did you hear me boy, I said we’re leaving. Where’s Sam?” John asked looking around the small room.

“Dad,” he stuttered out, voice breaking, mind swirling and heart aching.

“Where is Sam, Dean?” John snarled from the kitchen area, after his eyes made a quick sweep of the room and seeing no Sam.

“He’s with his friends.” Dean hated how much his voice wavered with fear at answering his father’s questions.

“It is your job to watch him.” he didn’t shout, it was worse. His voice wasn’t a concerned father his voice was full fledged hunter, low and intimidating. Dean had been on the receiving end many times each and every time he was reduced to a shaking and apologetic mess. This time though, this time instead of his usual reaction, he heard his counsellors voice in his head ‘you are a good person Dean, you deserve good things. You deserve love.’ It took every piece of strength the hunter had not to look down to Cas; who was still lying flat on the couch, eyes wide, face pale and hands shaking. The protective an affectionate streak he had always felt towards bright eyes came back full force, suddenly the fear he felt towards his father paled in comparison.

“He is safe dad! We’re safe!” Dean didn’t have time for his brain to catch up with his mouth and he barrelled on, “I thought you were dead!” John snorted at that, it made Dean want to throw up. “Two months dad, you have been gone two months, no word, nothing you didn’t even say goodbye.” a loud smash soared though the room, broken shards of glass pooling around John feet, fists clenched.

“Don’t you talk to me like that boy!”

“Yes sir.” Dean responded instantly, back straight, body tense and all courage now well and truly gone as he stared at the ground. He couldn’t stand up to John, he couldn’t change his mind it was pointless trying. It would just lead to pain, emotional and physical. The only thing Dean could do was pray he didn’t notice Cas.

“We are getting Sam and leaving right now.” He ordered marching in and grabbing the duffel bags and started to silently throw all the boys belongings into the two small bags. “Have you kept the guns as clean as the room?” he asked in obvious disappointment. He turned to face Dean, eyes immediately drawn to the stranger in the room, laying on the couch, looking scared and as if he was making himself as small as possible. Dean saw the sick smirk on his face and he knew it meant nothing good and shifted slightly in front of the smaller boy. “Who are you?”

“Dad this is my friend Castiel.”

“You don’t have friends Dean.” Dean felt his eyes prickle when he heard his dad’s cruel words and taunting tone, it was true Dean thought but whose fault was that. “Leave.” He commanded and Cas instantly stood ready to follow. “Your friend is leaving town you won’t see him again.”

“Dad.” Dean couldn’t say anything else, John snarled and stormed forward, he grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and spat his words out inches from his sons face.

“No buts Dean. I don’t know what has gotten into you but I am going to have to get rid of this new attitude of yours.” Dean knew what that meant and it shook him to his core. The young hunter looked to Cas how was staring at Dean red faced and eyes watery, if it were possible Deans heart broke all over again. He noticed and so did John, crap he thought. 

Something in Dean snapped, the self-preservation part of his brain switched off, he didn’t know what he was going to do and didn’t want to thing of the repercussions he just knew he had to protect Cas from John. He just knew that he had to get his dads attention back on him. The best way to do that was to fuel his father’s anger. 

“You were gone dad!” he shouted, stepping out of John’s hold and standing directly in front Cas, who placed a hand gently on the mall of his back, comforting and grounding him. “That’s what happened, you left. Sam and me, we settled, I got a job because we had no money. Sam is doing great in school, so am I. I got an A last week dad.” His last sentence sounded almost like a beg, he begged his father to understand, to care he even dared hope for some pride in him.

“The fuck you need school for Dean you’re going into the family business.” John answered sounding almost like Deans words had amused him, it hurt. A lot. But was nothing new to Dean.  
“What if I don’t want to?” he asked. He didn’t know why. He just knew after being forced to question his life in counselling, it was the one question that kept coming up. What if? What if he didn’t want to hunt, what if he didn’t have to hunt. What if he could be normal, have a normal, average quiet life for him and his brother. He felt foolish after every time he thought it, he knew the question didn’t matter. He knew there was no option for him. He didn’t have a choice. Like he had said to Cas he knew his place in the world. It didn’t matter if he hated it, there was no changing it. He knew it was a question that should never have been spoken. John’s face turned, not to angry father, not even to pissed off hunter, but to Something Dean had never seen before. It was monstrous and terrifying. If he were able to move he would have ran. John gave no warning before landing a sharp strike to his sons left cheek knocking the boy to his knees.

“Your mother is turning in her grave.” He shouted kicking him in the stomach and spitting on the floor near his son. Dean had never felt so pathetic. He felt hands on his sides, soft touches with no anger behind them, he relaxed instantly as Cas helped him to his feet “Leave!” the older hunter screamed at the boy who jumped and was visible shaking.

“Can I say good bye to my friend?” He asked John before turning and hurrying the two of them out of the room without waiting for an answer. He knew he would pay for that later but he didn’t care, he just wanted Cas out of there.

“Dean, I” Cas stuttered out as soon as the door was closed, he was cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around the boy. He wasn’t sure if it was more for his comfort of Cas’, but he knew it was something they needed.

“I’m sorry Cas.” He sobbed out. They stayed that way for a few beats, silent and desperately clinging to each other, wishing with everything that had that it wasn’t really happening. “I always told you dad would come back.” He placed a kiss on Cas’ forehead and a single silent tear fell down his right cheek as he felt not just his heart, but his soul shatter. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon. I meant what I said before, I don’t want to leave you.”

“We’ll keep in touch until you come back.” The desperation Dean heard in Cas’ voice was almost too much too bare, especially because he knew it wasn’t an option.

“He will probably smash my phone before we leave the state. After my outburst in there and insisting on speaking to you alone, I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get a new phone.” Dean left out all the other various and cruel forms of punishment that were also probably awaiting him, Cas did not need to know that. The boy shook his head as tears streamed down his face, as if he was refusing to believe what was happening, that he was not accepting this reality. 

Dean didn’t know he could feel such pain without an injury, without being stabbed, or shot, or thrown against concrete. But here he was shaking from the emotional pain, tears now matching Cas’ as he tried to come to terms with the fact that this time, this goodbye was really goodbye. 

“There has to be a way.” The words were no more than a whisper, hands gripping Dean’s shirt as if scared he was going to disappear, he was Dean thought solemnly. The hunter gripped Cas’ elbows pulling him flush against his chest into a tight and desperate embrace.

“I’ll write to you. I’ll send you blank postcards of where I am so you can track me, so you know I will never forget you.” It wasn’t much but it was more that Dean would have ever dared to do before he met bright eyes.

“Run away, we’ll run away together. We can leave.” The hunter could not stop the small sad smile that spread across his face, it sounded perfect. 

“Me and you.” He murmured, suddenly sucked into the dream, planning where they could go, what they would do. It would be tough but they could do it Dean thought. Him and Cas could do it and it would be beautiful.

“Yes just us. And Sam.” Cas couldn’t forget Sam and Dean loved him even more for that. The sound of his brother’s name however made him come crashing back down to reality.

“Sam.” He repeated, Sam was the one that needed protecting, more than Dean, he mattered more than Dean’s happiness, more than his dreams. The idea of Sam being dragged back to the hunter life made him want to scream, he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t allow that to happen, no matter what it cost him. “Cas I can’t. If I stay with dad, Sam might have a chance to get out.”

“Dean, no.” Dean took a small step away from his boyfriend, needing some distance in order to keep his head clear and mind strong. He had to do this despite everything in him screaming at him to do the opposite, to jump into his boyfriend’s arms and never leave.

“I’m going to stall him for as long as possible. I need you to go to the diner. Find Sam. Tell him funky monkey. Its code for dad, tell him to hide, to run and hide. Please do this for me. You can’t save me, but you can save Sam.”

“Dean.” Cas knew he couldn’t argue, he knew he would lose Dean today, the boy would be leaving his life today. Naively like the young boy in love he was he refused to believe it was forever. “Please return to me. I love you.” The hunter wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

“I promise.” He meant it, the thought of coming back to Cas, of coming home, was the only thing that was giving him the strength to go through with his plan. “I love you too Cas.” Their lips meet in a desperate, heart breaking, and final kiss. “Go.” Dean whispered. Dean watched as Cas ran towards the diner. 

Dean stood stock still for a few minutes. Trying to get his mind caught up and wrapped around the sudden turn of events. The boy didn’t feel as sad as he thought he would, he didn’t feel anything as much he thought he would. Something inside the hunter had broken. Instead of feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and sorrow he merely felt numb. He was used to losing things, of not having what he wanted, he was used to hurting, used to having his dreams smashed by reality, but this? Seemed too much for Dean and his body switched off. His tears dried and the pieces of his shattered heart and life settled in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath and returned to the motel room, to John.


	18. Chapter 18

“Pack up quickly.” John ordered he didn’t turn to his son so he didn’t see his red eyes, tear stained cheeks or look of despair and acceptance on his face. Though Dean knew even if he had that John wouldn’t care. “Where’s Sam.”

“At the Diner with friends.” He told his father a he grabbed his duffle and started pack, a faction slower than he normally would, just give Cas a few minutes he thought. “Where were you?” he asked despite knowing the answer.

“Hunting.”

“You could have called.” Just a few minutes he thought.

“I knew you were okay, and I was right. You’re right where I left you.” It was true. It never occurred to Dean to leave, to disappear with Sam, the same as John had. Looking back it would have been so easy. If John wanted to though he could have found them just as easily.

“I called the hospitals.” Dean admitted as he looked over to his dad, whilst the man didn’t look over to his son, nor did he stop organising the weapons, he did slow down a little, so he knew his dad was listening at least. “Every single one in America since you left dad, I thought you were killed.”

“You wished it more like.”

“No,” Dean shot back instantly. He resented his dad, he didn’t like him much a lot of the time and he hated some of the thigs John did to him. But he has never wished his only parent dead. Despite everything Dean loved his father. He only wanted John to find the happiness and peace that he couldn’t find with his children.

“Don’t lie to me, I can see it in your eyes.” He growled and pushed Dean back a few steps. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, Dean knew John didn’t shove him to cause him physical pain. John did it to simply remind him who was in charge, who had control. Pain would come later Dean thought. Dean looked to the floor, head bowed, John nodded satisfied with his reaction and turned to pick up all the weapons, ready to leave. “Now, take me to Sam.”

 

The ride over to the diner was short but so full of tension the ride felt 5 times longer. Dean took a breath and entered the diner trying to look as normal as possible.

“Hey guys. Where’s Sam?” Dean could tell by the silent looks between him and Sam’s friends that Cas was here he made it in time, Sam was in hiding.

“Sorry Dean, we haven’t seen him.” Everyone around the table knew the whole conversation was a farce. The young hunter let out a sigh, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. He shared a weak sad smile to Sam’s friends who returned it, they all looked confused and a little scared.

“Dean!” John shouted storming into the diner. A hush fell over the diner customers and employees alike looked to the scene unfolding with morbid fascination. When John got to his eldest son he gripped the back of the boys neck so hard he winced. “So, where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know sir.” He answered robotically as he stared out the window.

“Excuse me.”

“Apparently he did not turn up today.” Please believe it, please believe it, please believe it. John was pissed, the grip on the back of his sons neck moved to the front, he squeezed his throat as he brought his face inches from his own.

“Are you lying to me boy. You know what will happen if you lie to me.”

“Not lying sir.” He choked out, finding it harder to breath but even harder to care.

“You.” His attention turned to one of the kids at the table. “Where is my son?” he demanded in his hunter’s growl.

“I, I don’t know sir.” One boy stuttered out obviously scared, eyes darting to Dean. Bad boy of high school reduced to a quivering victim out in the open for everyone to see.

“Dad leave him alone, he is just a kid.” The fire in John’s eyes was not good but his attention was away from the young civilian so Dean took it as a win.

“Outside. Now.” John dragged his son back to the car, without warning he threw a punch to Dean’s stomach causing him crashing back against the impala. “Where is he?!” 

“I don’t know. Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.” Dean told his father as he stood up. Feeling proud that he sounded a hell of a lot braver than he felt. He knew the pain John could inflict, he found that   
despite being scared of him, he was no longer scared of the pain. Maybe the pain would ground him give him something to feel. With that knowledge he found it easier to tell his father what he wanted to for a while. “He is away from you.”

“Give me your phone.” Dean couldn’t let John get his phone, if he did he could get Sam to tell him where he was under the pretence of being his caring brother.

“No.” the word felt foreign on his tongue. Dean did not know a time where he had said that to his father.

“What?” he moved towards his son looking like nothing but a predator, Dean took a few steps back automatically.

“I said no. Sir.”

“Give it to me!” John shouted as he lunged towards Dean trying to grab it for himself. John was stronger but Dean faster. He twisted out of his father’s grasp and grabbed his phone from his pocket, the young hunter said a mournful farewell to all his messages and photos of him and Cas and threw his phone to the ground with all the strength he had. Something dark and angry flashed in John’s eyes. It wasn’t a demon or anything supernatural, it was completely human and completely terrifying. He grabbed his son by the front of his shirt and threw him against the side of the impala, Deans back screamed in pain but had no time to react because Johns face was inches away from his. “What have you done, you useless piece of shit.” Dean closed his eyes and waited for his punishment for such defiance, waited for the pain.

“Dean?” Dean knew that voice his eyes flew open and there behind John was Mr Spec, looking confused and pale. Dean tried to smile at him but John grip got tighter pressing his fists into his chest making the boy wince. “Dean!” Mr Spec spoke again, harder, firmer and louder this time, Dean chanced a look he was no longer pale, on the contrary his face was flushed with anger. John took a step away from Dean allowing the boy to breath properly again.

“Hello sir.” Dean greeted his teacher, all bravado he had at school gone, he stood in front of Mr Spec a shell of the boy he was used to seeing in the corridors, it was evident in his face how it angered and scared him.

“Who the hell is this?” he snapped looking between the two of them.

“This is Mr Spec sir, he teaches English literature.”

“Good to meet you now leave me and son to our discussion.” He shot to the teacher, leaving no room for discussion, Mr Spec of the other hand did not turn away, did not back down. In fact he took a   
step closer. Dean watched in morbid fascination he had yet to see anyone deny John anything.

“Oh so your Mr Winchester. You sound different from when I spoke to you earlier on the phone.” Despite the conversational words his tone was harsh and even accusing. 

“I never spoke to you. You been pretending to be me boy.”

“Dean.” Dean felt like a turtle sinking into his shell, curling back to make himself smaller.

“It was Bobby.” He mumbled.

“You got Bobby to be your father.” He sounded disgusted and completely offended at the thought of his son doing such a thing, it almost made the young hunter laugh, almost. If anything it gave Dean confidence, almost certain John wouldn’t kill him in front of a witness at least majorly injure. 

“What was I supposed to do dad! You left us for two months! I didn’t know where you were.” Mr Spec looked on in silent shock, surprised when John scoffed in return instead of denying and apologising.

“Don’t sound so pitiful, you’re used to it, you’re a survivor Dean. Always have been. I left you money and credit cards.”

“That money lasted a few weeks. I got a job, I don’t want to use stolen credit cards dad. I want to stay here.”

“Your mother would be so disappointed in you Dean.” Dean’s eyes filled with tears as his heart squeeze hearing his father’s words. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“Dean, would you like to come with me to school to discuss your options.” Mr Spec was standing next to him, hand gently on his shoulder. His eyes lit up did he have options? Could he stay? Before he could reply John dragged him away and behind him.

“You are not going anywhere boy, except in this car, we are leaving.” He barked, keeping eye contact with the man in front of him, daring him to attempt to take his son away.

“Dad, please.”

“No!” John shouting, grabbed his son by the collar and threw him to the ground. This had always been his tactic with Dean, fear. Fear of his fists, his negligence of his heart breaking words. What worked the most of the fear of hurting Sam, it always without fail got Dean straight back into line. Mr Spec had rushed to the boy’s side and helped him up. John was so angry he didn’t notice the small card that was placed into Dean’s palm who subtly pushed it up his sleeve. “If Sam wants to run away and desert his family then fuck him, he no longer has a family.”

“Please.” Dean tried again, he had never had a place to call home before, and it never bothered him until now. It was the first time that he could remember that he found a place he could happily call home and make a life for himself. It was all useless though, he knew it, he always knew it would come to this. 

“Get in the fucking car. Now. Get in, or you go in the trunk. Your choice.” The young hunter nodded and made his way to the car.

“Dean.” he didn’t look up, he knew when he was defeated, there was no point now

“Stay away from my boy. In.” back to normal he thought as he followed the order immediately and climbed into the car, hands clasped in his lap as he tried to stop the shaking.

“Dean!” he heard his teacher shout as the car roared to life and sped down the road and out of town. He didn’t look up, the boy didn’t want to watch the town from his window get smaller and smaller. Dean didn’t see his teacher watch the car drive off with concentration on his face, staring at the number plate as he spoke on the phone.

The only thing to ground Dean’s numb and broken body was the feeling of the corner of the card his teacher gave him digging into his arm.

Once they were out of town and on the road again Dean looked up and stared at the scenery whizzing past him, John had yet to speak to him. He suspected John would be like this for a while, it made anxiety bubble in his stomach, it was the calm before the storm. Silence tears fell and the young boy said a silent goodbye to the life he made; to his school, his job, to Cas and to his baby brother.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean is back on the road, he has lost track on how long it’s been, he didn’t feel it mattered anymore. After the stunt he pulled, refusing to leave town right away, destroying his phone, John in turn pulled him from school. He is now a high school drop out with no opportunities in his future apart from the hunt. He hardly talks anymore, he really has nothing to say. He does his job and keeps his mouth shut, John has yet to complain, and he even seemed to prefer it. It turned out the card the Mr Spec slipped him was a business card. The young hunter committed the number to memory, encase he ever needed it, before destroying the card by eating it. He simply could not risk his dad finding any evidence.

Dean is not the only one that had changed. Despite what John wanted him to think he knew losing Sammy had hit him hard. He was more ruthless and daring in his hunts, he drank a hell of a lot more than the borderline alcoholic he was before, even the coldness towards Dean had changed. It was now cruel. Always berating and insulting his son, putting him down and manhandling him with more force than needed. His punishments became more sadistic and excessive. Half the time he denied his son food, he took to regularly cutting his son on the arm with a silver knife to ‘check’ he was still human, even holding his head under a bath tub full of holy water once or twice to ‘make sure’. If Dean didn’t feel numb he would live in a constant state of fear, but it barely mattered anymore, sometimes he half hoped John would be so drunk he held Dean under water a moment too long, at least then it would be over.

The only joy Dean had was the postcards he sent to Cas, he was a man of his word. He may not keep track of the days anymore but he knew he had sent 23 postcards. The happiness he felt when he sent the cards was always laced with the intense fear of being found out. He only dared sneak out to purchase and send the post cards when his father had passed out drunk in the motel room. He always choose one that was extremely touristy with the name of the town and local photos, and the only thing written on the back was D.W. XXX, today though was different. 

The young hunter had just wrapped up a particularly hard hunt, kids, always heart breaking. It took a lot out of him to defeat the monster of the week, not just emotionally, he got beaten quite badly. Broken ribs, bust lip, black eye, two broken fingers, too many bruises to count and a stab wound. A superficial stab wound but a stab wound nonetheless and it still hurt like a bitch. Only half of his injuries was from the spirit, the other half was from the monster he calls dad. The young hunter felt like he was fighting a battle on both sides, it was exhausting. 

It did not take John long to drink himself unconscious, considering he started before they even finished the hunt this time. It was barely 7, and John was on the motel room floor laying in a pool of vomit. Dean debated with himself before putting his father in the recovery position and slipping out of the room. And made his way to a small shop they passed earlier.

 

Dean stood in front of the rotating metal display of postcards, deciding the best one. He stood still for so long he caught the owner’s attention.

“You alright there boy?” the middle aged man asked coming up behind Dean, he wore denim jeans and a denim jacket, black t shirt and biker boots. His face was starting to show wrinkles and hair starting to grey. Dean was snapped out of his day dreaming, jumped a little at the sudden presence and extremely grateful of his father’s absence. If he saw that a civilian managed to sneak up on him he would have a few more broken ribs to add to his collection. Dean turned to the man, readying himself to be thrown out. Instead the man before him took a step back shock clear on his face. Dean can feel his injuries but has yet to examine the extent of the ones on his face, it must be bad he thought. “Shit son, are you okay?” Dean could hear the genuine concern in his voice. It made him uncomfortable, the boy was not used to having someone address him let alone care about his wellbeing. He nodded slightly and gave the man the best smile he could, which came across as sad and pathetic. “Do you want me to call the police, or an ambulance?”

“I just want a postcard.” He replied as stoically as his wobbling voice could manage.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes. Just a postcard.” Dean interrupted, he wanted to sound tough, to put on his hunter voice, make the man wary of him if not scared. He just didn’t have it in him anymore. “Can I borrow a pen?” the man nodded a wordlessly handed one over, not being subtle at all about checking out his obviously painful injuries.

He filled out the address, fished out the stamp from his pocket, it had seen better days but still usable. He signed the bottom with his initials and stared and the blank space above it. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted Cas to know. Tears fell down his cheeks as he continued to stare.

“You know.” The owner began talking snapping his attention back to the present. “Somethings just can’t be written down. Somethings have to be said.” And he handed Dean the store phone. He deeply was confused, and looked to the phone, to the man and back again. What was happening he thought, why was this stranger being nice to him? People aren’t nice, was this a trick? A test? Could he make the call? Should he do this? Was his dad watching? It was a real possibility he thought, but staring at the phone in his hand and thought of hearing his voice again, suddenly John’s punishment was pittance compared to what he would get from calling. After a few deep breathes he nodded to the man in thanks, turned and took a few steps away for privacy before dialling a number he memorised long ago.

“Hello.” Dean’s stomach dropped, throat dried and mind cleared, he didn’t think he would ever hear that voice again. “Hello?”

“Hey baby.” Dean croaked down the line trying to keep it together, which already felt near impossible and he had only said hello.

“Dean? Dean!”

“Hey Cas, you okay?”

“Am I okay? Dean, are you okay?! I heard what happened with your dad. The police were called.”

“I thought they would be. My dad wasn’t exactly subtle.” He never was any more Dean thought.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” He breathed down the phone at him. It wasn’t a lie, he didn’t want to lie, not to Cas. It wasn’t the whole truth, there was a lot wrong, a lot that was broken but he was telling the truth. He would live.

“That is not in the least comforting.”

“I’m okay Cas I promise, just little sore in a few places.” He snapped his mouth shut, he didn’t want to go into anymore details. He prayed cas didn’t ask, he knew he would do anything, all bright eyes had to do was ask, that alone was terrifying. “I miss you.” he whispered into the phone, fighting to chase away the tears that were threatening to fall. “I miss you so much. God cas, I miss you so much it hurts.”

“Dean. I miss you too. So much. I want you home, I need you home.” The desperation and honesty in his voice forced those tears to silence fall down his cheeks.

“I can’t my dad he,” the boy shook his head, this wasn’t why he called. “Never mind.”

“Please. Please talk to me. I love you.”

“He’s changed cas. I’m scared.” He didn’t want to admit it, but it was true, he was starting to become a coward.

“What’s he done?” Cas pleaded. “Dean, please. I need to know.”

“He stabbed me.” Dean tentatively admitted, the boy heard a gasp from cas’ end and started to explain. “Not deep, It wasn’t to kill me or anything, trust me if he wanted to dead there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I patched myself up but he’s never done anything like this before, not really. He’s drinking more and getting more and more careless.”

“I’m coming to get you. Where are you? I don’t care if I have to drive all the way across America I am coming to get you. I’m going to bring you home” 

“Can’t do that baby.” The words taste like ash in the young hunters mouth. He wanted to agree, shout the town and sate over and over again until his love was in front of him and they were home again. He knew he couldn’t though. He knew it wasn’t an option for him.

“Yes you can Dean! You don’t owe your dad anything.” He could tell cas was crying, he was too.

“Me staying with my dad means Sammy is safe and out of his reach, if I leave him. He will hunt us all down, not because he misses us or he loves us, but out of spite and because he can. I can’t put Sammy in that danger. I can’t put you in that danger.”

“Me? Your dad doesn’t know anything about me, don’t worry about that.”

“He knows your face and your name. He has found people 8 states over with less information. Trust me it’s safer for you two if I stay with him.”

“And what’s safer for you.”

“That’s not important baby. I’m trying to keep you safe. At least I get to keep you in some way.”

“You deserve better than that dean.”

“I deserve everything I get. I’m not a good person Cas.” 

“You are the best person I know.”

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good. Really good.” Dean found a little peace at that. At least Sammy was okay. “He’s living with your uncle bobby. Doing well in school. We hangout once a week, he’s a good kid.”

“Just knowing that cas. It makes everything worth it.”

“It’s not.”

“Sam is worth each and every one of dad’s sadistic punishments.”

“It’s not worth your life!”

“Sam is worth more than my life cas. I will protect him till I die, he’s my baby brother Cas I will do whatever I have to.”

“There’s nothing I can say to get you back is there.”

“I will come back.” He promised. He meant it, he didn’t know when but he was going to go back. “It’s only a matter of time until my dad drinks himself to death or picks a fight with the wrong person, he’s unhinged and taking way too many risks. I will not leave him but I can’t save him, I won’t, he’s too far gone. I will come back to you when he’s, when he, you know.”

“He could kill you before then.”

“I have to go, another postcard is in the post.” Cas sighed but didn’t argue. Neither of them wanted to spend these few stolen minutes arguing, they both knew the chances of them speaking of the phone again were slime. They were both silent for a while listening to each other breath and quietly crying down the phone to each other. “I, I love you Castiel Novak.”

“I love you too Dean Winchester.” He replied instantly. That was all Dean needed. Hearing Cas’ voice, hearing those words, was enough to see him through. Enough to give him strength. They didn’t say goodbye, neither willing to say those words to each other. 

After taking a few moments to take a few deep breathes and compose himself, Dean wiped a hand down his face to get rid of the tears and turned to face the store worker again.

“Thanks.” He told the man with the best smile he could muster and handed the phone back.

“Is there anything you want to tell me? I can help.” The man’s eyes were narrow and dean felt sick. He must have heard some of the conversation.

“No, no you can’t.” Dean mumbled, no longer able to meet the man’s gaze. The young hunter pocketed the postcard and exited the store as quickly as he could, and without turning back went to find a post box before returning to the motel, where his father was hopefully still out cold. Dean did not see the worried and fearful look the shop owner gave him as he left, and he didn’t see the man reach for the phone or dial 911.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments they mean a lot!   
> Sorry it's been a little while, work has been pretty insane these last few weeks or so  
> Hope ya'll enjoy!

Dean held his breath as he snuck back into the motel room as silently as he could. The young hunter let out a sigh relief when he saw his father right where he left him, face down on the dirty carpet laying in his own vomit.

He debated with himself as to whether he should move John to the bed or leave him where he fell. On the one had he would be pissed if Dean let him sleep on the floor, on the other hand, he would be pissed if Dean woke him getting him to the bed, when he was quite content with the floor. He was damned if he did and he was damned if he didn’t. It was one of those situations he hated, no matter what decision he made it was the wrong one and there would be punishment for it. It was times like this that reminded the boy that his father wasn’t just heavy headed, his father was sadistic.

Dean decided to leave John on the floor, he would have his punishment in the morning when John woke instead of now. Unfortunately sober John’s punishments were more thought out and less sloppy then when he was drunk. In a way it was good, it meant less chance of permanent injuries but it usually hurt more and for longer. Dean didn’t care though as he looked down to the man supposed to be his father, he knew he was happy to take his punishment tomorrow for a few hours peace. He just wanted to lay in bed without fresh injuries, in peaceful silence and think about how he actually spoke to Cas tonight. How he finally got to hear that voice again, he wanted to let the memory of his voice wash over him, and dream about what his life could be when he finally made it back to him. 

Before the teen had chance to indulge in what little pleasures he could steal for himself, there was a small knock on the door. His brow furrowed in confusion, they were not expecting anyone as far as he knew, but then again it wasn’t like John really told him much. He checked the time, too late for motel maids or staff but not of a time that would be outrageous to knock on some ones door. He grabbed his gun and made his way to the door, sparing John a glance on his way, gun in grasp tightened dramatically and shook slightly, as Dean ignored the same murderous thoughts that always flooded his mind when he held a gun around John.

With the gun pointed to the unknown visitor through the door, Dean slowly opened it. Out of everyone he was expecting, a young, kind looking man with a soft smile and cheap suit was not one of them.

“Are you Dean Winchester?” He asked obviously trying to eye into the room behind the hunter.

“Who are you?” Dean shot back, purposely not moving the door and widening the man’s view of the room behind him.

“My name is Agent Wilson and-” Dean’s stomach dropped, having cops at your door was never a good thing, especially in his line of work. He knew however if they had any proof of anything they wouldn’t have knock and certainly wouldn’t have requested anything.

“Sorry pal, not interested.”

“Dean, I’m sorry son, it’s not a question on being interested I would like you to come with me.” Fuck he thought, had he been careless, had they seen him on a hunt or digging up a body. The thought of officers and possible time inside did not affect the boy, didn’t even come to mind. The only thing he thought, the only thing that scared him was; ‘my dad is going to kill me.’

“Why.” He was nothing if not stubborn and persistent.

“To talk. About your father.” Dean didn’t think it was possible for his blood to run cold anymore, but there he was fighting harder than he had to in years to keep his blank, calm mask firmly in place. The young hunter was trying so hard he had forgotten to reply. “You can come with me to have a chat tonight or we can come back tomorrow morning and arrest your father. It’s up to you.” Fuck Dean thought.

“Fine. Five minutes.” He told the man with more conviction than he felt. Dean quickly and silent on his gun on the side table by the door, checked his pockets for the keys and followed the man to the car. Dean’s mind wondered as he sat in the car he realised that, despite the dread in his gut at what was to come, this was the first time in months-he thinks, that he could in a car and enjoy the ride, enjoy the vibrations, the freeing feeling. Now he was constantly tense in the impala, was his dad too drunk to drive but more stubborn? Was John going to plow them into a tree, many on purpose? Was he going to kick Dean out of a moving car, again? Was he going to pull out a knife or gun out? 

The young hunter could no longer relax, at any point. It was after this thought Dean realised just how tired he felt as he sunk deeper into the seat. He left light headed from lack of sleep and what little he got the nightmares and broken sleep did not recharge him, he felt like he hadn’t slept in years. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in days, his stomach was knotted and churning. The boy felt terrified, he felt torn in two, he was being pulled into so many different directions his head spun. Mostly however he felt like a young, lost, bruised and broken teenager who had had to do whatever he had to, to protect his drunk and violent excuse of a father because that was his job; John was safe, Sam and Cas were safe.

Dean soon found himself in an interview room at the town’s station. He was sat across from two people, one man- deputy Wilson and one woman so did not look as fresh faced as her, what Dean could only guess, her partner. They both however donned identical looks of pity and sadness Dean hated it, he knew it was directed at him.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us Dean.” the woman told him with a tight smile. “You know Agent Wilson, I’m Agent Wrung.”

“Just say what you want to say so I can go.” Impatient to get back, chances were his father would not arise till morning, but why take the chance?

“We want to help you Dean.” Out of everything he was expecting, that was not it. Maybe they want him to testify that John made him kill that person or dig up that body.

“Excuse me?” He asked fatly, need more info before he could start lying.

“We know about your father, what he’s doing to you.” the sharp faced women in front of him told him.

“To me?” Dean was now lost, agitated, exhausted and starving, not a good mix he was getting really pissed.

“We want to make it stop.” Wrung assured him, though he didn’t feel very assured. She reached across the table for the young hunter’s hand but he moved it out of her reach. Wilson took a less ‘mothering’ approach, he opened a file and started reading aloud.

“You’ve been to 8 towns in 5 states in the last 3 months since leaving Kansas. In each and every one there has been at least two calls put in about you and John and his treatment of you.”

“He treats me fine.” Dean answered back automatically and without thinking. The two officers in front of him looked to each other before Wilson pressed a button on the laptop facing them and the room became filled with Dean’s voice. Deans voice speaking private words in a private conversation he had not long ago with Cas.

“He stabbed me. Not deep, It wasn’t to kill me or anything, trust me if he wanted me dead there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I patched myself up but he’s never done anything like this before, not really. He’s drinking more and getting more and more careless.”

“Where did you get that? That was a private phone call.” Anger boiled inside the boys gut, but something overtook it, humiliation that someone else knew how John made him feel, knew he was too weak to do nothing but take it.

“Marty records all calls after a number of nuisance calls to his shop a few months back.” He felt more stupid than he can ever remember being, he Dean had done his fair share of stupid things.

“This is an invasion of privacy and none of your business.” 

“Dean, were worried.” The hunter had dealt with creatures that wanted to kill him, humans that wanted him dead, never really humans that wanted to save him. He had Louise and Sam, Cas and Bobby but never, what looked like a team of people following them and trying to get him out and make him safe. People in authority only ever wanted to arrest people like him not save him. Could he be saved? Cas’ voice echoed in his mind and he cracked a little, softening around the edges.

“You have no need.” He answered immediately though his tone lacked the bite it had at the start, Cas’ loving and worried words repeating in his head over and over. the agents didn’t respond, Wilson turned the page of the file in his hands and began reading.

“‘It was 11am the man was obviously already drunk, there was a kid with him, he picked up an order and made his way to the drunk man by his car outside. The drunk man took one look in the bag before punching the poor kid in the face. What made it worse the kid he didn’t even seem phased listened to whatever the man shouted at him and then came back to grab napkins. He punch his son in the face for forgetting napkins, it was horrible.’ The statement was from 4 days ago, matches your description, your father’s and your car.”

“Wasn’t me.” He knew no one in the room believed him. He also knew he voice was cracked and he knew the drop of moisture on the table by his hands was not from the water they gave him. When he thought of that day, he could still feel the tingle on his left cheek from where John fist collided with it. It took every inch of strength the hunter had not to touch it to try and soothe the feeling away.

“We have a dozen more eye witness statements to your father’s abuse.” Abuse the thought. Not once; even after everything he had been though, after everything John had done to him, never once did he think the word abuse. He was hunter, a hero. Hunters didn’t get abused, hunters didn’t need saving. Abuse he thought again.

The room was silent for a long, Dean mulled over all the information, not sure how to feel about it and not sure what to do with it. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he wanted more that to go back to Kansas and see Sam again, be with Cas without the constant fear of departure, see Bobby and take him up on his offer and live there, go back to school, go back to work, normality. Always just out of reach. It hurt because for a while there he was safe and happy and he had what he didn’t realised he wanted, what he didn’t realise he needed. And then a switch was flipped, his game as face back on, it didn’t matter what idea’s he had, what dream of a perfect life he had, he was dealing with his actual life. A life he needed to protect, he had a job to do. The more of these people that poked into his life the more likely John will find out and punish him for it and the more likely it is they would catch them doing something illegal, violent and prison worthy in the name of hunting. Dean needed to shake them.

“Then why are you talking to me. If you have all this evidence why am I here?”

“Eye witness accounts only go so far, if we want to put John away from as long as possible we need the victim to be on board and not denying everything.”

“I am not a victim.” Dean snapped, standing as fast as his injuries would allow, being careful not to wince in front of the officers. “I will never be a victim do you understand me.”

“Then what are you Dean?” officer Wilson asked. Not long ago Dean would have proclaimed loudly, that he was a hero, he would hold his head high and feel pride at what he did and who he was. Now? Now he didn’t have the same conviction. The young hunter wasn’t sure if it was because of Louise, of knowing Cas, or his current worsening situation, though he imagined it was some sort of mixture of everything. But now at being presented that question Dean was left with nothing to say, only a swell of numbness in the pit of his stomach as a way of answering.

“Are we done? I need to get back.” Dean said, hand rubbing down his face as he took a deep breath.

“We can make it stop Dean, all of it we can put your dad away for a long time, you could go home, to back to school, which we know he forced you out of.” Even to Dean’s ears that were only half listening she sounded desperate.

“Will you kill him?”

“No.” Everyone in the room looked shocked at Dean’s question, they really didn’t understand he thought.

“Then I wouldn’t be safe, Sam wouldn’t be safe. No dice. If you heard that phone call you know my plan I’ll be fine.”

“Waiting to see who dies first is not a plan Dean. He will kill you one day.” There was desperation in Wrung’s voice but Dean didn’t have the privilege to care.

“Dean, we are trying to help keep you, your brother and your boyfriend safe. If you heard this recording of someone else, wouldn’t you want to help?”

“You know what screw you guys.” Deflect, Dean thought, get angry he told himself, don’t cry.  
“We’re not going away Dean, you guys can move around all you like, we will be there and we will be the ones to arrest your father.” Wilson told him, now on his feet too. The man’s words sounded like a promise, he spoke with so much conviction that Dean was half convinced by his words.

“Well when you do, you’d better either put a bullet in his brain, or in mine.”

“Wait Dean, please.” Wilson rushed out when Dean made a move to the door, he was not under arrest and they couldn’t keep him there. “Off the record what has he done to you.”

“off the record?”

“course.” 

“go screw yourself.” Dean told him before resume his walk to the door and out the room. The two agents looked at each other both feeling defeated but both determined that it was far from over and they would save the kid that was so obviously scared and lost.

“That could have gone better.” Wrung said as he gathered up the papers, already planning their next move. 

Dean stormed out of the station and made his way back to the motel as quickly as he could. He knew that odds were that John was still passed out and would be until morning, but it was not something he was willing to risk. He no longer takes the risks he used too, he was no longer as brave as he used to be. Much preferring to keep his head down, stay safe and get through the day alive and with as little pain as possible. The young hunter kicked an empty can on the path as hard as he could out of frustration. It was times like these, where he had time to think, where he was forced to reflect, that he realised he didn’t recognise himself anymore, he didn’t like who he had become.

Dean wished for the countless time since he was taken away from the place he created his first home, he wished he was back on that old lumpy couch with cas in his arms, he wished he was back sitting at that rickety, slightly cramped table doing homework with sam, he wished he was under the hood of a car at Rufus’ garage. He wished he was back at home. But he couldn’t go home, he knew that, it killed him but he accepted it. In order to keep everyone safe from the most dangerous hunter in America Dean will stay by his side, take his beatings and cruel twisted punishments until like the detective said, he sees who dies first.

Those thoughts were still playing on his mind by the time he re-entered the motel room. The sight of a passed out John lying on the motel room floor met him, the stench of vomit filled the boys nostrils making him gag. Dean covered his mouth and nose as he opened all the window’s he could. He looked over John was on the floor, thankfully in the recovery position laying in a pool of his own vomit, it was on his face, hair, in his ear and all over his clothes. Dean sighed sadly, he never thought this would be his life, compared to the crazy he had lived through, this was just pathetic, he was pathetic. 

The young hunter placed a glass of water on the side next to his father and for a few minutes he stared. He thought about how strong and heroic his father was to him growing up. How righteous and perfect he always seemed. Now Dean couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to put his father on his back, and just let whatever happens happen. He felt disgusted at the thought, even more so that he really considered it, for a lot longer than he was willing to admit. The boy shook his head, disappointed in himself as he turned away from his father and climbed into bed, as he did so the detectives words rang through his mind; ‘waiting to see who dies first is not a plan Dean.’

The next morning Dean when to the library to research their case, leaving his still unconscious father on the floor.


	21. Chapter 21

His father, John Winchester, the hunter, the hero, was nothing but a memory. He was a shell of the man he once was. 

Dean had had to take the lead on hunts because John was simply too drunk, unkempt and angry to do so himself. Unfortunately although Dean was a great liar he found it hard for people to get past his age. They got more rejections then cases.

Dean couldn’t really refer to himself as a hunter anymore, he doesn’t remember the last time they killed a monster and saved a life. John doesn’t care anymore, so long as he can sit at a bar all day. Sometimes he beats some stranger that looked at him wrong. It was always terrifying to see John flip like that, it always served to remind Dean of his place. The dark part of the boys mind was just glad it was some stranger and not him, this time, he hated that he thought it but he couldn’t help it. Dean’s had never been clear on the exact reason for these beatings, thinks it’s to feel the rush of a fight, maybe through his alcohol stewed mind that was hunting to him now. Dean didn’t know and he couldn’t even try to figure John out.

After the incident with the agents they ended up moving to a different town pretty quickly. Dean didn’t know if John somehow found out about Dean being questioned, John never mentioned it and Dean certainly never asked, though he wouldn’t be surprised if he did somehow know. After that, was when their hunting took a nose dive, they flitted from town to town, from state to state so much that, although in some sense they have now settled a little, Dean wasn’t 100% sure he knew what town or state he was in. 

They also started living out the impala, John not willing to waste money on motels when they had a moving hotel in the parking lot. So long as Dean paid his father’s tab he left him alone, the boy doesn’t remember the last time John spoke to him, but then, Dean doesn’t remember much anymore.

Dean no longer possessed a sense of time, he didn’t know what day it was, how long it had been since he left his brother behind. When the last time he had a full night’s sleep or when he last had something that resembled an actual meal. The boy was in a constant state of fear, pain and sweet release, which in turn evolved to guilt and pain, every time. 

Dean started working at the bar, but it only lasted a few nights before he was fired because he had to give his father free drinks. He needed to keep his father happy, or at least content and so drunk he passes out instead of turning to his fists and few remaining weapons onto him. After a few more failed job trials, Dean was desperate.

What does a desperate young man do when he needed money urgently? Dean took to the streets. Some nights Dean took part in street fights for money, other nights he turned tricks. Both of which left him in pain, hating himself, hating his father and more often than not, very high.

The young Winchester, tried to run once. Just once. After his first time on his knees for money. He threw up and ran. John found him. By the end of the night Dean had several stiches in his head, which he had to do himself, a few broken ribs, fingers and toes. Just to show Dean who was in charge, he signed the boy up for a street fight the following evening. Dean had no choice but to do it. You don’t say no to those people, he lost-badly. That was quite a while ago, he thought, again Dean wasn’t sure how long. He knew it was long enough for his injuries to have healed and be replaced by newer once. He accepted his fate after that, it got easier. He used nicotine, drugs and intentional pain to soothe his internal pain and achieve something that resembled an escape, if only in his own head.

Dean had forgotten how old he is, he is asked so many times from his clients that if anyone asks the word ‘legal’ falls from his lips. The young boy isn’t sure if that is even true anymore, he thought that he may have had a birthday but wasn’t certain.

Three things keep Dean sane; 

1, The afore mentions drugs, he smoked and popped the pills he was given with very like thought or argument. It kept him in a more manageable head space, it dulled the pain, and stopped his ability to think too much about his life and the whole unescapable situation he found himself in.

2, The old folded and battered photo he keeps in his back pocket at all times. It’s of him, Bobby and his baby brother, Sam. When he remembered nothing else Dean remembered Sam’s name. He often wonders if he’s happy, if the boy is still in high school or if he was in college, had a job? Met someone? Dean hopes he has the life he always wanted though he doubted he would ever get to see the answers from himself. 

3, The third thing that kept Dean sane in the dark deep of night, after a beating, after a rough client, after an angry dad, the only thing that kept him sane was the scar on his forearm. The cut on his arm that changed his life, turned it on its head. The cut that lead him to question his life, to create a life. The cut that strengthen his relationship with his brother, that got him a job. The cut that led him to Cas. Cas. The boy that changed him, the boy that in his darkest moments fantasies about waking up next too. He never used to intentionally cut his arm, it was only to prove he wasn’t a demon, however. He has no need to do that now. There were no more demons after him. No demons he was fighting apart from the ones in his head, he didn’t do it too often but sometimes he found the way to do that was pretty much the same, blades and blood. This time on himself.

It was early evening mid-week, Dean knew this because the sun had only just set and there were less people milling around the area than on weekends. Despite the relatively early hour, Dean had just put John into the impala, passed out. Dean rarely goes in her anymore, she permanently stank of piss and vomit, he mostly slept outside or in the makeshift brothel hostel for the homeless whores, or for clients willing to pay extra for convenience and privacy. If he had a good night for money and had some spare he was there for the night, it wasn’t the Ritz but it was warm and mostly dry. Business was rather slow tonight, he had seen and satisfying a balding middle aged man, a young nervous college boy- either experimenting for going through hazing, Dean didn’t care either way, and a married woman in her 30’s obviously trying to get back at her husband.

The young boy stood against one of the walls that lined the town’s red light/homeless/drug area, half way through a spliff to get him through the rest of the night. He didn’t have friends, but he had sort of colleagues that had his back, just like on numerous occasions he had theirs. One such person came up to him, showed him a small white square on her tongue telling him ‘for luck’ before sticking her tongue down his throat. Cherry was a good kid and liked to share the good stuff with Dean, it helped that he was always happy to beat someone that went too far with her, or any of them.

“Feds want to speak to you, good luck Cas.” She told him before sauntering off. He didn’t know what possessed him to take Cas’ name, whether it be a way to stay connected or to make sure he never forgot he didn’t know, it came out without conscious thought when he first started here and it stuck. He liked hearing the name. It took Dean a while to register her words, long gone where his fast hunter reflexes, chained down with weed and what he imagined to be E. whatever it was he thought, it was working, he felt like floating. He felt like the injuries he got last night on his right side where someone decided to ram him with a car were gone, he was no longer in pain. He leaned heavily against the wall, eyes closed and took a pull and waiting for whoever he was just told about to arrive.

“Are you Cas?” A man asked from where he now stood to the left of the boy. Dean was so subdued he did not jump or startle, he hardly reacted at all just opened his eyes to look the man up and down.

“And who are you?”

“I am agent Malcom Young my partner agent Brian Johnson will be along shortly.” The man held out his id badge. Dean took the names in and couldn’t help the laugh that erupted out of him, it reminded him of simpler times. On unsteady feet he turned to face him, took one more puff before stomping it out on his boot. Deans eyes went to the badge that he presented, though his whole head lolled forward at the movement.

“That ‘agent’ is fake.” He slurred, squinting up at the man before him. “It’s good but, you know, fake.” The man before him, mid 20’s probably, cheap suit and a crocked nose, broke and set wrong something in Dean’s head told him.

“I can assure you that,” Dean rolled his eyes, but again his head followed the movement.

“Yeah okay whatever. What do you want?” He asked leaning against the wall again for the support it offered.

“We are here to ask around about the homeless people disappearing.” Again the laughter came out before Dean could stop it. He was having a weird twisted sense of Deja vu. If he were in his right mind, he would have cared that these men were obviously hunters but he wasn’t in the right mind, he didn’t care. “Is something funny?” the ‘agent’ asked and seemingly a little put out by the boys reaction.

“The whole situation. Never thought I would be asked these questions.” He slurred as he reached into his pocket, this time pulled out a normal cigarette

“Unfortunately we have too.” The man told him, clear that he thought Dean, even if he knew something was unreliable as best.

“I don’t know anything, didn’t even know anyone was disappearing.” The boy shrugged, smile pulled at his lips around the cigarette now light, tip glowing red faintly in the dark.

“7 people have gone missing from here in a matter of weeks.” The ‘agent’ explained, trying to elicit some sort of response from the boy. They were told that this young high barely legal whore was the one, that was the last to see at least two of the missing people, but he couldn’t seem to get through.

“People come and go all the time, it’s the nature of a place like his shit pit.” He told him, exhaling clouds of smoke into the night as he stared at the hidden stars in the dark sky. “Besides, I’m here to work, not to socialise.” He looked to the boy’s red and bruised knuckles, the red marks of his neck, healing bruised cheek bone and the angle at which he kept leaning against the wall. His heart squeezed but he did not know how to help him, did he even want help.

“How old are you kid?” the ‘agent’ asked, eyes squinted as he looked the boy, obviously a teenager, up and down. He had a job to do, but could he leave a kid in this kind of place?

“Legal.” He answered automatically with no though to the answer. “Why you interested?”

“You realise you just proposition an officer of the law right?” The agent replied with, eyes wide in shock at the boys actions. Cas in returned laughed lazily in reply before he slurred some words together.

“You no agent, ‘agent’, you wanna arrest me? Go right ahead.” He slurred, silence stretched between them, broken by the arrival of another ‘agent’ in an equally cheap suit. His blonde shaggy hair, a complete contrast to Malcom’s shaved head.

“Any luck over here?” He asked with a sigh, his lack of leads evident in his heavy sounding voice.

“Nothing, the boys too high to know anything.” Malcom sneered making Dean chuckled as he put his cigarette back to his lips.

“Holy shit.” The new agent gasped upon seeing the boy in front of them.

“What?” his partner asked, alarm bells beginning to ring in his head.

“Holy fucking shit.” He repeated as he took a few tentative steps towards the broken, dirty and injured boy in front of him. “Dean?” He whispered. It couldn’t be true, right? This couldn’t be him.

“Who?” his partner asked eyebrow drawn together.

“Dean Winchester?” Dean’s eyes flew open out of surprise, he tried to focus on the man before him but his foggy state making it hard to seeing him properly. “Dean!” the man repeated this time louder and with more conviction.

“Who is he, Johnson?” Dean started taking small steps back. It was one thing to entertain a hunter’s question whilst they pretended to be feds, it was another for them to recognise him.

“The son of a hunter.” He answered, matching the boy’s steps to keep the distance between them. “Not a bad hunter himself.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I have work to do.” Dean straightened up, flicked his cigarette to the floor and began to walk away with a slight limp they only notice because of trained eyes.

“You working this case on your own then?” the blonde hunter called to him.

“Do I look like a fucking hunter to you?” Dean hissed back, taking a few steps closer as he snarled that them, that should have sounded angry and fierce, it sounded slow and kind of pathetic. “I am working, now piss off.”

“Dean.” He tried again, unable to really think of what to say. The hunter was trying to get his head around what he was seeing. Dean Winchester mia for months only a handful of years younger than himself and already twice the hunter. Stood in front of him, high, possibly drunk, he looked in despite need of a shower, as good sleep and something to eat.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“What happened to you?” He asked, taking a step towards the boy, who looked lost and so much younger than the hunter knew him to be. The young Winchester opened his mouth to reply, squinted at the sky as if trying to think of the words, his movements slow and dramatic, the hunter wondered exactly what the boy had taken.

“Hey sugar, you busy?” A man at least twice Dean’s age asked him as he sauntered up and placed a possessive arm around the boys shoulders. 

“Not at all.” Dean replied with a smirk. This he knew Dean thought, this he was good at. The kind of questions the hunters were asking him were new, they were unprecedented and terrifying. He didn’t want anything to do with it.

“Actually he is.” The shaved headed hunter snarled, stepping up to the weasely looking man with his arm still draped around an intoxicated, barley legal, hooker that apparently is or at least was a hunter. He produced his ID taking joy out of the way the man’s eyes bulged and took his arm off Dean as if he had been burnt. “I suggest you leave.” The man nodded quickly before scurrying off. Many heads watching the exchange and a few people now changing course to avoid them, including Dean.

“Fucking great. Now I won’t get another catch tonight.” Dean shouted, he almost wept over not only that lack of money to pay the bar, but he was hoping for something hot to eat tonight, maybe even a warm place to sleep, after over a week on the cold hard, ground. “Dammit.”

“Come and get a coffee with us, talk to us. Then we leave you alone.” Dean wanted to say no on principle. But he had nothing else to do all night, he was right in saying he was done for the evening. The clients around here are skittish and careful, no one was going to approach him tonight. The prospect of something warm inside of him almost made him say yes immediately. 

“You have 30 minutes and you’re buying the coffee.” The hunters nodded before making their way to the local diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me guys! you know what they say, it gets worse before it gets better :)


	22. Chapter 22

Dean hadn’t been inside of a diner in a long time. Long gone were the days he could afford it, he could relax and hang out there for hours, the closest he got to that now was when he got lost in his memories or when he walked passed the well-lit building, risked a glance and saw it full of warm and friendly looking people. 

Dean followed the two hunters into the diner, his arms instantly coated in goose bumps from the warm air that was being pumped around the building. The young boy was simply too high to notice the stares he got, or the brisling manager, Dean was to out of it to see the hunters flash their badges and tell them that they were here to get a statement and make sure the ‘poor’ boy had something to eat. The staff calmed after that, looked at Dean with pity instead of disgust. If Dean were aware, he would hate it.

The young boy sat in the booth. He found the hunters were true to their word, he sat nursing a coffee, hands warmer than they had been in a while. Dean’s mind wandered to Kansas, to the dinner, not unlike this one, where he sat having milkshakes with Sam, how he watched as Cas spoke to the staff quietly before sitting opposite him and sending him a shy smile, how he had walked into a diner much like this and watched as Sam’s friends lied along with him to protect the boy from his father. A diner like this destroyed the life he built. No he thought. John did that. John destroyed him. Dean was unaware of the tears that were falling until a plate of fries were placed in front of him. His eyes shot up to the waitress and he found her blurry as he looked through unshed tears.

“I’m sorry ma’am I didn’t order this.” He tried to give it back but she smiled and walked away. 

He looked to the hunters that were sat opposite, both of whom also had plates of food in front of them. He frowned in questioned and the hunters explained that they asked what he wanted but didn’t answer so got him fries, Dean hadn’t heard them say anything, it was hard to focus, even more so when his mind was supplying him with bitter sweet memories of a past he was desperate to recreate.

They gestured him to eat as they tucked into theirs. The boy wanted to protest, wanted to deny what was clearly charity. His mouth however was already watering and he was sick of feel sick from being so hungry. Without a word Dean began to eat.

By the time Dean had finished his plate of fries and drained two cups of coffee and nursing a third, he was feeling more like himself than he had for a while. The drugs were still having an effect but he found it easy to see through the fog.

“What happened to you Dean?” The blonde asked, Dean was almost certain he was told their names, but he didn’t remember.

“Life.” He spoke into the mug as he drank the rest of the coffee.

“Life sucks but it’s not supposed to suck this much.” The shaved hunter told him. Dean snorted at that, he was sure it wasn’t supposed to be a dig at his job, but he couldn’t help make the connection.

“Funny.” 

“That’s not,” The hunter tried to explain himself, Dean didn’t care enough to listen.

“Why are you two here?” he asked placing the mug onto the table, looking from one man to the other.

“Just following a case.”

“Yeah I got that when you guys showed up in your cheap suits and started flashing around fake ids. I meant here with me.” Dean gaze was stolen by the flickering street light outside, for some reason he found it fascinating. The blonde hunter reached out touched Dean’s arm to bring his attention back to them before he spoke.

“I’m trying to understand, how a hunter as talented as yourself, traveling with your father, a legendary hunter. Falls of the grid and ends up high as fuck, turning tricks in a dodgiest most seedy part of this state.”

“Just lucky I guess.” Dean sighed, and sat back in the booth removing himself from touching distance and started staring out the window again.

“Did John die? Is that why you’re stuck here?” The blonde asked, obviously as delicately as he could, encase it were true. What neither of them expected was the humourless laugh that came out of the boy’s mouth, the laugh sounded sad and did not reach the boy’s eyes.

“This was John’s idea.” Both hunters froze upon hearing the boy’s lightly slurred words.

“What?” the blonde almost growled, voice low and obviously dangerous, Dean smiled that used to be his voice.

“Gotta pay his bar tab somehow.” Dean told them, eyes still focused outside, voice causal as if discussing the weather.

“John Winchester is forcing his kid into prostitution in order to drink himself to death.” He blonde growled again, even to Dean’s foggy ears and senses he could tell that this man possessed a calm sort of anger, a dangerous thing to have.

“It’s not all bad, some nights I get signed up for street fights.” He held his hands up to the men before him, showing them his red, swollen and cut knuckles.

“Jesus.” Shaved head whispered looking at the table, he needed a moment to process, it was too hard to look at Dean for a moment.

“What’s he done to you? How long have you been doing this for?” The blonde didn’t have that problem, if anything it made him want to know more.

“I have no idea.” He told them honestly, he knew it was at least a month but whether it be 6 weeks or six months or even a year Dean was truly clueless, though he didn’t mind. Truth be told, Dean didn’t want to know. “I don’t even know what day it is.”

“Dean, you are coming with us. We are taking you home.” They were completely serious and were a little surprised when they heard that same dark humourless laugh fall from Dean’s mouth.

“Funny guys. I am home.” Well that just broke the hunter’s hearts. What had happened to make Dean so accepting?

“Bobby has had every hunter in America on look out for you.” Blonde told him, leaning forward and lowered his voice.

“What?” Dean asked eyes wide and mouth slack, surely he heard that wrong. “Bobby has?”

“And that kid brother of yours? Has all of us call him each and every time we go to a new state to tell him if we have seen you. He loves you. He misses you.” Dean didn’t know what to say, there was nothing he could say. People were looking for him? He didn’t know Sam had it in him to do that, though really he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Did you think you could just fall of the map and no one would try and find you?”

“Pretty much.” He admitted quietly feeling a little ashamed.

“It stops now.”

“Yeah kid, we’re taking you home”

“I did try and run once. Once.” He admitted, staring at his hands. “John he, he made sure I wouldn’t do it again.” For some reason he found the urge to explain to them, to get them to understand he had tried to save himself, he did try to get out. “I belong here and I belong to him.”

“That son of a bitch.” Blonde told him, hands visibly shaking now. “Where is he?!” standing and staring at Dean, he knew the anger wasn’t directed at him but he still felt himself shy away a little, a far cry from his hunter days.

“Tom, calm down.” Shaved head told his partner, Tom, Dean told him himself.

“No. that asshole will get what’s coming to him.” With that he stormed out, Dean and shaved head following suit.

Tom did not ask where to find John, Dean was almost certain he was so angry he probably couldn’t get the words out anyway. Tom obviously knew about them, if any hunter knows anything about the Winchesters they know about the impala. That’s what Tom was looking for as his partner tried repeatedly to get him to calm down. After a few words exchanged between, words of which were fuzzy to Dean’s ears, the shaved hunter helped in the search for the car.

Dean would have helped, if he could. He went to the impala a few times a day to put John in the back seat or to grab supplies but in this moment he had no idea where it was. After following the men blindly he became turned around, and didn’t know where abouts he was in the criminal and whore territory that was his home now.

It didn’t take long to find it, but long enough for Dean that was searching on the spot for the two hunters that disappeared from view, to start to simply spinning on the spot. Riding the last parts of his high, looking up at the lights above him and he span, making the lights stretch in his vision, he was being to think he had a halo surrounding him. For a second he forgot why he was there, why he had started spinning in the first place. As he spun enjoy that last tingle of his high he felt like flying.

“Hey!” Tom shouted to the left of Dean. His shout was followed by many heavy bangs on the roof of the car. Dean stopped spinning and jerked his head towards the noise almost losing his footing when he stopped spinning suddenly. The boy took a moment to focus his vision before he wobbled his way over in time for another set of bangs to be made against the roof of his once beloved car. “Hey asshole wake up!” Tom shouted into the now open car from where he pulled open the door. It said a lot that even a hunter recoiled at the stench. Tom banged and shouted at the sleeping form again.

It took too long for shaved hunters liking, when John didn’t respond he grabbed the man and pulled him out the car instead. By this time there was more than a few people looking over at the spectacle.

The sudden movement roused John awake. Dean knew from experience that he woke up angry, the young man took a few tentative steps back to put a little extra space between him and his father. John slowly stood, looked around to make sense of the situation. Without warning he threw an expertly landed punch to shaved hunters left cheek, Dean winced he knew how much that hurt.

“Who the fuck!” John slurred loudly. Neither hunter was expecting John to still have some fight left in him but after they refocused with that information, it did not scare them away. Dean admired that, envied that. John launched at them once more, only this time the attack was parried and countered, leaving John with a bloodied nose and bruised pride. 

“Hi John, my name is Tom, this is Pete.” Tom introduced them as John glared. Pete Dean thought, Pete. Tom and Pete, he repeated in his head, trying to commit their names to memory.

“And what the fuck do you want?” He growled. Obviously still drunk and constantly wobbled from side to side slightly. John looked to both men before his gaze focused on Dean, who stopped breathing and started fidgeting. John smiles one of his smiles, it was not a kind one. “If you want a piece of my son’s ass, go to the hostel, impala is off limits. And no, there are no group discounts.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tom shouted, stepping not only in front of Dean but closer to John. “You piece of shit!” Tom wanted nothing more than to stab the bastard in the face. He however was painfully aware that there was now a little crowd and Dean despite what he had been put through was still his son and would still defend his father, even if he didn’t, no one deserves to see their father get killed. “That is your son!” He shouted pointing at Dean.

“Listen here kiddo,” John began, he sounded patronising and dangerous. Tom would not let him finish, he could not. You don’t get a reputation as one of the best, if not the best, hunter in America by playing nice and not knowing how to strike terror into everyone. The hunter could see it in his eyes and the man was blind drunk, he felt a new respect and pity for Dean having to deal with John on a daily basis, especially when he was sober, though he imagined that was a rarity these days.

“No. you listen to me.” He looked to the young boy behind him, he saw fear in his eyes. Tom wasn’t sure if it was because of the consequence his father would dish out if Dean remained and Tom failed, or if it was because someone was standing up to the man and he didn’t know what was going to happen, or if it was just simply being this close to the man that tortured him, in every way one could be tortured. Whatever the reason for that look in Dean’s eyes it light a fire in the hunters belly. They are hunters, they give their lives to make sure that look is taken away, that people are safe and don’t have to live in fear. He knew that no matter what he was going to save Dean tonight, he was going to make the boy feel safe. Crowding into the John’s space he growled back at the man. “I am taking Dean away from here and away from you. You think you’re a good hunter? Well you were. I wonder how well you will do if every hunter in America finds out what you have done. How you have beaten, abused, mental crippled and pimped out your own son to keep yourself in alcohol.” 

“Idle threats.” John was taken back for a few moments, because a smirk appeared on his face, obviously too cocky from never having lost a fight.

“No threat John, I promise you.” The sincerity in Tom’s voice made John’s smirk waver a little, the hunter look that as a victory.

“Dean grab your stuff, let’s go.” Pete told him, also standing slightly in front of him, so to better block his father’s view and access to his son. “Dean, get your stuff.” Pete repeating quietly and calmly to the boy who was staring frozen and wild eyed at his father. Dean looked to Pete then to the ground.

“I’ve got it.” He admitted gesturing to himself. Pulling at the photograph to make sure he had it. “I don’t really have much.” They nodded to each other and turned to leave, Pete whispering encouragements that it would be okay.  
“Dean!” John shouted from where he was leaning against the impala, looking pale from both the reality of the situation and the nauseous feeling from the combination of excess alcohol and excess movement. “I won’t forget this. If you walk out of here with them. You’re dead.”

Dean nodded, he looked down at himself, to the people still watching to his father. Would death be any worse than this? He thought. Dean took a breath, this was happening he reminded himself, and if it wasn’t? If this was just some amazing dream or great trip? At least he could enjoy it for a moment.

“I’m dead if I stay dad. Waiting to see which one of us will die first, is not working anymore.”

“I will find you.” He warned. Dean believed him completely and within a second the little colour that was in the boys face drained away in a blink of an eye. Surprisingly it was Pete, not Tom that took a few steps toward the man, face dangerously close to John’s.

“You will leave him be, both of them.” he warned, voice low and full of promise. “Every hunter in America John. If you ever go near your boys again.” He glanced at both Dean and Tom, a twisted smile appeared on his face. John reacted a little to that, recognising himself in the hunter. “Not only will I lead the hunt, but I will kill you myself. Are we clear?” all John could do was nod. Pete, for a reason Dean could not fathom handed John a twenty for a drink before leaving.

“Come on kid.” Tom told him, arm around his shoulders as they gently led him to their car.

 

Dean lay in the back seat, the hunters made sure the heaters were one to make him comfortable. The cars constant low rumbles and movement soon lulled the boy to sleep. 

They would have been glad for Dean to get some much needed sleep, but the sleep he was getting was not needed. They kept looking back at the boy that was fidgeting and twisting in his sleep, saying words like ‘no’ ‘please’ ‘sorry’ ‘dad’ it hurt them to hear, but knew it was nothing like the pain Dean had had to live through. Half of them wanted to wake him to stop the nightmare but they knew, troubled sleep or not, he needed sleep or else he would collapse. 

The two hunters looked to each other both with matching sad eyes. They both knew where they were going, both knew there was nowhere else they could or would go. 

It would be an 18 hour drive back to Kansas, 18 straight hours on the road, but one look at the boy in the back seat and neither cared in the slightest. Tom pulled out his phone from where he sat in the passenger seat. The hunter looked to Dean who thankfully looked much more peaceful, soon he thought, soon you’ll be home. He blinked way the tears that were threatening to appear and dialled Bobby’s number.

“Hey Bobby, it’s Tom. We, we found him.”…“Alive, thankfully. But he’s, he’s hurt. Inside and out Bobby. I barely recognised him.”…“We are bringing him home, we’ll arrive in around 17 hours.”…“Yeah, we need a hunter sent do our case.”…“Bobby. There’s, there’s something you need to know about John.”


	23. Chapter 23

Dean was still asleep by the time Tom and Pete pulled in the old familiar junk yard. A place that held as many warm memories for them as they were sure, the boy in the back seat. He was safe. It was only when the engine was cut off did he stir a little but still didn’t wake up.

Pete gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. The hunter was so tired he was beginning to feel light headed, things were moving in and out of focus and dancing across his vision. 18 hours, he did it. Pete was feeling sick and what can only be described as fuzzy, the man knew though it was worth it. He knew that Dean would be safe here, he knew that Bobby was a good man and would treat the boy well. The two hunter’s sat for a moment, taking in the still silence of the car, the last 24 hours sinking in.

The old faded red door of the house in front of them opened, Bobby already disappeared back into the house, allowing them entrance without an audience. The three hunters had agreed that there would be no surprises for Dean, that he had had quite enough. Dean would come down and reunite with Bobby when he was ready. Something told them that Dean would probably want to shower and change first.

“Dean.” Tom whispered to him from where he was crouched by the open door by the sleeping boy’s head. He was hesitant to touch the boy, he had no idea what he had gone through and whether actively or not, the boy was a hunter and a good one. Touching an unsuspecting sleeping hunter was never a good idea. “Dean,” he tried again a little louder this time. Tom had never met either Winchester before yesterday but he heard stories, everyone had heard the stories. John was the best. Dean was not far behind considering his young age. Now though he thought, the network would be telling completely different stories of John Winchester and his son. “Dean, wake up. We’re home.”

“Hmm?” The boy hummed, finally blinking his eyes awake. He stared at Tom for a few moments, a mix of confusion and wariness, as if his mind was catching up on the events of the previous night. 

Tom and Pete were both very aware of how under the influence Dean was last night, and that he was probably fighting through a drug fuelled fog. Sooner than expected realisation hit Dean’s face, though the confusion was still etched into his features.

“You’re home Dean. Time to get up.” Tom spoke again, making a conscious effort to keep his voice low and calm.

“I don’t have a home.” Dean told him. He didn’t sound bitter, anger or even sad by his words, despite obviously believing very word he said. He sounded like he was merely stating fact. The young hunter slowly sat up in the car and gently rubbed his eyes.

“Yes you do.” Pete told him from where he was still in the front seat, deciding his tiredness can wait until Dean was at least a little settled. “See.” He gestured to the house in front of them. The gasp from the boy was small and quiet but it was heard nonetheless.

“I can’t be here.” Dean mumbled shaking his head, eyes fixed to the open door ahead of them, as if waiting for something, or someone to appear from inside. “Bobby won’t want me. It’s the first place John will look. I’ll just cause trouble.” He looked down at himself, pulled his thread bare shirt away from him, dirty, ripped and covered in an assortment of things. “I look like a, well,” the boy let of a small humourless laugh “like what I am.” His gaze shot to the mirror in the car to catch eyes with Pete who was watching him. “He can’t see me like this. He can’t. Please.” he sounded small. Like a desperate young boy that had his freedom and choices taken away, like he was drowning in the prospects of what he now had to do to pick up the pieces of his life.

“It’s ok Dean. It’s okay.” Tom still crouched beside him told the boy, as Pete got out the car and joined his friend by the open car door. “It’s just us three for a little while okay. Bobby knows you’re here, he said himself to bring you home. Of course he wants you.” 

“We’ll get you cleaned up first, he is inside but you won’t see Bobby until you’re ready.” Pete told him, Dean’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, he was silent for a moment, mulling over their words.

“Promise?” He asked quietly, voice breaking.

“Promise kid.” Tom answered easily, they shared a quick smile small, it didn’t reach the boy’s eyes but it was a start Tom thought. 

Silence engulfed them, both men looking at the boy in the back of their car, in the cold light of day they saw just how young he looked, just how lost and broken he was. Aside from his injuries and bruises, his eyes were red and had dark circles underneath, his hair was slightly shaggy and dirty, mud visible in patches. His clothes a little too baggy as if he had lost weight, which he probably had. His skin was blotchy and dry, much like his hands and his nails were dirty and several either broken or splintered. The boys knuckles, red, slightly swollen and cut and grazed. It was a shock for them to see, they didn’t know what he looked like before this ordeal but they knew he looked worse for wear. That he looked like a shell of the boy that they had heard impressive stories about. Dean felt their eyes on him, he could almost hear their thoughts about him. He knew what he looked like. He knew what they found him doing was disgusting but he did what he had to do to survive. Anxiety rose in the boy during the silence, his fingers started moving tapping and gliding over each other, Dean open his mouth and began to ramble just to fill the silence.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see him. It’s just,” the hunters let him talk, he needed to talk. “I don’t remember when I last had a shower or changed my clothes, I am covered in dried blood and,” Dean snapped his mouth shut, unable to say the words, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be here. Before Dean couldn’t make up his mind to leave and return to the hell he had become accustomed too, Tom spoken again, grounding the young boy back to the car in was sat in.

“We can fix that. Come on Dean, let’s go inside.” Tom urged. The younger hunter looked to both hunters, to the house, the pull in his stomach was making him feel sick. He wanted it. He wanted a home, to see Bobby, to see his baby brother again, to get back to normality. Dean couldn’t stop the flash of blue eyes shot through his mind. 

He nodded and wordlessly and carefully manoeuvred himself out of the car, obviously taking care not to aggravate his injuries. Injuries Tom and Pete were extremely aware of as they tried to help him, only to be waved off.

The young hunter straightened up and stared at the familiar house in front of him. He felt his hands shake and eyes immediately fill with water as memories of the house, of Bobby, of Sam and of Cas, flooded his mind. He was back. He was really back. 

Despite his plan and promise to return, the young boy realistically knew he would not see this place again, he knew he wouldn’t return. He accepted his fate, accepted he would not escape, that he would probably die young. This was not part of the life he expected. This was not part of the plan, Dean didn’t know what to think or feel, he felt numb.

The young hunter allowed himself to be silently and gently lead into the house, it was warm, it looked like it had the last time he was there and smelt the same as it always had, like home. Dean glanced up at a few of the photos hanging on the wall as the made their way upstairs.

Dean hadn’t realised his eyes were wide, scared and wet, that his hands were shaking more and his breathing had become heavy, until he stood in what he presumed was his bedroom and he stared at the bed before him. Both hunters took a step back.

“Dean, you are safe here. No one is expecting anything from you.” Tom told the boy slowly as the two men held their hands up in surrender. Dean’s eyes darting from man to man before his muscles, which he hadn’t realised were tense, relaxed and he found himself sat on the edge of the first bed he had seen in, he didn’t even know how long. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled to the hunters who were still keeping their distance. His hands clasped tightly to try to stop his fingers shaking as he took a few deep breathes.

“Don’t apologise Dean, never apologise for what has happened to you.” Dean didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t even know if he agreed so nodded in response, before looking around and taking in the room.

The walls are an off-white cream colour, curtains a deep blue, which matched the bed sheets. There was a pine wardrobe in one corner and a chest of drawers and a desk in the other. Above everything though he noted that it was clean. There was no dust or clutter or mould anywhere, no smell of whiskey or piss or vomit. It was a world away from what he was now used too. The hunter gazed around the room, at first he though it bare, but he his gaze fell on the framed photo of him, Sam and Bobby of the bedside table, and a glass of water placed on a batman coaster. A sad but genuine smile pulled slightly at the corners of his dry and slightly chapped lips.

The two hunter’s let the boy look round and take everything in, they didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts but didn’t want to move encase it freaked the boy out again. After a few minutes Dean started staring at the grey carpet beneath his feet. 

“There are clean clothes in the draw and new towels in the closet.” Tom told him as he slowly made his way over, giving Dean plenty of time to register his movement and either accept or reject it. Tom settled next to the boy on the bed careful not to touch him. “Bobby is waiting downstairs when you are ready.”

“Will you be leaving me now?” Dean asked suddenly inexplicitly nervous at the idea of his rescuers leaving.

“Not yet, we need to rest and if you wanted we were gonna stay a few days, make sure you are okay.” 

“I’d like that.” Dean told them, voice quiet as if nervous for their reaction to his confession. Tom sensed his and before he could stop himself he reached out. He hovered his hand over Dean’s still clasped hands for a few seconds. When Dean didn’t move or flinch the hunter gently covered the boy’s hands with his own in a silence gesture of support. 

Dean did not remember the last time someone touched him like this, with no ulterior motive, no malice intent and it wasn’t a way to get Dean on his knees, it was just a touch. Dean was frozen for a moment just staring at their hands.

“You need to call the cops.” Pete told him, breaking the fragile silence in the room. Smashing it into 100’s of shards that could cut Dean with this conversation.

“No.” Dean instantly shot back with no thought into the answer he was going to give.

“Yes.” Pete argued back from where he stood leading against the wall in front of Dean, arms crossed and eyes firm, clearly angry at the situation, Dean couldn’t help but be a little wary of the man in that moment. “Get that bastard sent down for what he has done to you.”

“Pete.” Tom warned his friend, Dean clearly not enjoying hearing these things.

“Tom.” He shot back. They both knew this conversation had to be had, they both knew it was sooner the better. Neither of them liked it but Pete would bite the bullet and have Dean hate him for saying it, if it got John the punishment he deserved. “I can’t even begin to imagine the crap you have gone through Dean, but he can’t get to you anymore. He deserves to be punished.” Although exhausted by everything, Dean suddenly had too much energy to just sit, so he began pacing the room, running his hands through his hair, he gripped it, almost too tight.

“He could escape prison, if he even gets jail time, and he wouldn’t be in there the rest of my life.” His breathing had again became erratic, Pete moved from the wall and came to stand in front of the boy, stopping him in his tracks, forcing the boy to look at the man in front of him. Surprisingly he didn’t see anger, white hot rage at being disagreed with, he saw calmness, passion yes, but no anger.

“Dean. How do you think other prisoners treat men who do what he has done? And even if he did escape, he was be on the top of every hunter’s hit list. Trust me it will be safer for him in jail.”

“Pete is right Dean, it’s the best thing to do.”

“Just let me shower first.” Dean reasoned, it was too much, it was all too much. He just wanted a shower, to feel hot water over him, to smell like soap instead of, well. He wanted to feel clean for the first time since he took to the streets. “One thing at a time.”

“I will get in touch with them for you. Someone will have spoken to you by the end of the week” Pete told the boy as he grabbed a towel for him, Tom did the same for shower gel, Dean nodded in thanks.

“Okay.” Dean told them. He wanted the conversation to be over but he did mean it. These men, they were good people. They didn’t have to do anything but they did, they got him out of a dangerous life style not of his choosing, they got him to the one place he could feel safe and find a home. They wouldn’t do all of that just to place him in harm’s way now. 

“Okay.” Pete repeated, relieved at Dean’s compliance. “We’ll be downstairs.” Dean watched as they both left the room, his room. Undoubtedly to join Bobby downstairs. Bobby was downstairs he thought.


	24. Chapter 24

Dean opened the drawers in search of clean clothes, the boy expected a couple of Bobby’s old shirts. What he didn’t expect was to find each draw full of different items of clothing; jeans, shirts, socks, even boxers, all in Dean’s size, or the size he was when he left. They would probably be a little too big on him now. Bobby has supplied him with a whole new wardrobe, an entire bedroom. Bobby really did want him there Dean realised. The young boy shook his head, he was right before, one thing at a time. Clutching the towel and shower gel given to him and the clothes he grabbed from the draws, he made his way across the landing to the bathroom.

The young boy turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up. He slowly toed off his shoes, revealing holey socks. The boy, with much effort slid off his jacket from his shoulders. The room started to fill with steam, and butterflies started fluttering in the boy’s stomach at the prospect of a hot shower. Slowly and carefully he raised his arms to take off his shirt, he was met with sharp white intense pain from his side causing the boy to perch on the edge of the bath for support. Dean sat for a while, breathing through the pain.

After a little while the pain had subsided but instead of getting to his feet the boy found himself looking down inspecting his unfamiliar broken body. His knuckles still bruised and angry red from his last fight. He stared at his hands and remembered all the pain he had inflicted with them, all the dirty money he had held and all the skin he touched. It made him feel sick. His hands started to shake and tears began to fall as he turned his hands palms up, knowing what he would find there. The cut on his forearm that had begun everything in the first place, had led him to Louise, to Cas. The cut had faded and turned white into a scar. As he looked down at his abused arm, he realised that, that original scar was lost in not only all the others he had accumulated over the years but by the red angry looking lines on his arm which were fresh, hot and made his skin feel sore and incredibly raw. As he stared down at his arm, shame built in his gut. In the privacy of the bathroom, with the shower on to cover the sounds he allowed himself to weep. 

The boy allowed himself to cry for what he been done to him, for he had done to himself, he cried for his father and for his loss, he cried because he was hungry, he cried because he needed a cigarette, he cried because crying made his side hurt and because he didn’t think he was be able to take his top off to shower anymore. 

The young boy sat on the edge of the bath in a house he never thought he would see again and wept, from the bottom of his stomach, over the life he never planned or wanted. His hands began shaking uncontrollably from the fear of what was to come. The unknown. When he was at rock bottom he just had to keep going, he just had to survive. Now? Now he was to go up, he had to rebuild, he had to get better, and that thought terrified him. He didn’t know how.

Dean wasn’t aware how long or loud he was crying for until he heard the door open slowly.

“Dean?” A familiar rough voice filled the air, in between Dean’s sobs, gaps and heavy breaths. The boys wet green eyes shot to the owner of the voice. He didn’t smile and be filled with joy upon seeing Bobby like he thought he should be, he didn’t shuffle away, wipe his eyes and pretend he wasn’t crying like he thought he would. Instead he looked to Bobby, opened his mouth to say something, anything. Instead he choked out another sob and tears began falling again down his reddened face, as he stared at his hands.

It said a lot about Dean’s exhaustion, about how overwhelmed he was that he didn’t flinch or reacted much when the man closed the door behind him and sat on the bath next to the boy he saw as a son, the boy he thought he had lost forever. The boy who, looking at the broken and barely recognisable shell in front of him, he may have lost already. Bobby reached over and place a heavy hand on the boy’s knee. An innocent gesture the man had done a thousand times as a sign of support and comfort. This time however the affect was the opposite. The young boy yelped in shock, jumped away from the unexpected contact, causing him to slide down the front of the bath and landed heavily on the floor. The boy yelled in both surprise and pain before he rested his elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbled, eyes closed and breaths coming thick and heavy.

“It’s okay boy.” Bobby told him, joining him on the floor, careful now not to touch him.

“No its not.” Dean sighed, his tears finally slowed down and almost dried up, for now. He went through everything that was wrong in his head, everything that he didn’t want to or couldn’t say out loud yet. One thing at a time, he reminded himself, he just needed to take a shower. But the pain in side seemed to make that an impossible feat. “I can’t, I can’t get it off.” He pulled at his shirt as he whimpered even to his ears he sounded pathetic. “It hurts.”

“Let me help you.” Bobby told him, he didn’t phrase it as a question but Dean didn’t take it as a command neither. Bobby turned to face the boy, hovered his hands over Dean’s torso. “Okay?” He nodded and allowed Bobby to help him, slowly and carefully, out of his shirt. It was a testament to Bobby’s self-control that he stayed silent as he removed the boys clothing. His torso was covered in purple and green bruises blossoming from his left hip and expanding out across his ribs much like flower creeping up his body, red marks, scratches and cuts ran down his back and stomach, the red finger marks around his neck stood out more when the shirt was removed. There was dozens of small circle scars dotted round his torso, though mostly congregated around his right hip. Perfect size of a cigarette, a few were not quite scars yet they were still red, raised, weepy and infected from the lack of proper care available.

Dean was standing in front of Bobby, naked. Bobby was purposely not looking away from his face, the man seemed a little uncomfortable and flushed. Dean on the other hand was not effected in the slightest as his missing clothes. He had spent so long with strangers seeing him, it didn’t matter to him anymore. Not long ago he would have tried to cover his injuries or at least his arm and his injuries he created for himself. He spent so long however with people seeing them and not caring, he spent so long with people that that liked to inflict the injuries, so it simply didn’t matter anymore.

“Thank you Bobby.” He told him as he turned to step into the shower, Bobby’s eyes on the pile of dirty clothes.

“I’m gonna take these clothes a wash them.”

“Throw them out, burn them. I don’t want to see them again.” Dean told him from behind the shower curtain.

“You got it.” Bobby told the boy and he picked up the offending articles of clothing. “I will see you downstairs.” The man paused at the door, hand on the knob. “It’s good to see you son.”

“You too Bobby.” The voice was small and the man could barely hear it. He nodded to himself before letting himself out of the bathroom and back downstairs to join the other hunters in the living room.

 

Dean stood under the water for a long time, washed his body dozens of times, and washed his hair twice. Long after we was as clean as he could make himself he was still under the spray, when the water turned cold he still remained. 

Eventually Dean talked himself into leaving the shower and drying himself off. The towel softer than anything he can remember using. Very carefully he pulled on the clean clothes that were provided for him, the jeans hung low on his slightly narrower hips, he would need a belt at some point. The shirt he had was thankfully a button down so he could careful put it on himself, it took a little longer than normal but he did it.

Dean wanted to curl up and hide in the room that was to be his bedroom, he wanted to block everything out and ignore everything. But he knew he couldn’t. He had to deal with it. The thought made him feel sick, he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a coward. He took a deep breath, pulled the hem on the shirt and started to make his way down the stairs.


	25. Chapter 25

Dean entered the painfully familiar, cluttered but cosy living room, and the boy came face to face with Bobby. This time his mind slightly more alert and his shield had risen again. There was no sign of Pete or Tom, for some inexplicit reason this caused some level of fear to rise and swirl in his stomach. He knew it was stupid, he barely knew them, Bobby he knew all his life, he was safe with him. He knew that, he did, but same dark part of his mind told him he should have been safe with John as well.

“Where are Pete and Tom?” He asked, not quiet looking at Bobby. Neither of them moved from their sides of the room. Bobby not wanting to scare or push Dean too soon and Dean because he just didn’t know what else to do.

“Resting, neither has slept in three days, they’ll be staying for a few days.”

“I see.” Dean nodded as he shook his hands in an attempt to rid his body of anxiety. “Bobby, I” for the first time he looked straight at Bobby, straight into his eyes. What he found there was not hatred, anger or disgust. It was love. It took Dean’s breath away. The only difference between this Bobby, and the one in his memories is the slight greying around his temples and a longer and slighter more straggly beard, the look he gave Dean however had not changed. He looked softer around the edges, more tired but his eyes held nothing but love, love and relief that he was looking at Dean again. “I, I missed you.” Dean choked out, suddenly filled with emotion. 

He strode across the living room and crashed into Bobby’s chest and wrapped his arms around the man that was more like a father to him that his own. The thought of John’s face flashed in his mind and made him hug a little tighter. Bobby squeezed back gently the image of Dean’s injuries prominent in his mind.

“You too Dean.” Dean did not miss how chocked and uneven his voice was. They stayed there, in the middle of the living room with their arms around each other for a little longer. Longer than Dean could remember having contact with something without pain. “You must be hungry,” Bobby told him as he gently clasped one the cheeks as if grounding himself to this moment, to the boy he thought he had lost. “I have made food, come on.” Dean watched as Bobby left the living room and entered the kitchen to gather the promised food.

The young boy entered another painfully familiar room, the paint was faded and chipped and the oven looked 10 years past retirement but it was warm and safe and it too held many warm memories for him. Dean didn’t know whether to smile or cry at him being there.

“I’m not hungry.” He assured the man who had his head in the fridge.

“You just spent 18 hours in a car sleeping, you must be starving.” Bobby shot back without missing a beat as he continued to pile the plate.

“Pete and Tom brought me fries before we, before we left.” Dean tried to explain as he hovered near the door. “I’m fine for a while.” He hoped Bobby would understand, without real explanation, without having to tell the man that he was so used to eating so little that his body simply didn’t need it anymore, the thought of a big meal right now is turned his stomach. “Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s my job. I will always worry about you Dean.” The man placed a plate on the table, jacket potato, salad, baked beans and fries, with juice and pie of the side. “Sit.” Bobby told him leaving no room for argument on the issue, Dean gently lowered himself and perched on the edge of the seat. He did not want to look at the man or the pile food in front of him.

“I don’t need food.” Bobby’s reply was to give the boy a fork, who sighed but took it anyway.

“You will have three meals a day, snacks in between, you will rest and get enough sleep and you will be safe here.” At some point Dean had started to pick at his food, gingerly placing small pieces of food on his tongue. “You understand? All that has happened? All of it it’s over, you will never go through it again boy.”

“Yes sir.” Dean told him, a warmth washed over him, he was in a familiar house that was to be his home, with a man he knew what never hurt him, he had food in front of him. He felt, good.

“Eat.” Bobby urged when he noticed the boy had stopped. Dean started again, he knew as well as Bobby that there was no way he could finish the plate but he had to start somewhere. Bobby made a cup of coffee, giving a few quiet minutes. “These were in your pockets.” He told dean as he placed a packet of cigarettes and a lighter on the table in front of him. Dean stilled when he saw them, blood running cold at the possible consequences. “I’m not going to lecture you Dean. If it helps, right now you do what you need to do. It’s okay, just not in the house.” 

“Thank you Bobby.” Dean mumbled around a piece of potato as he eyed the packet on the tale, he could do with one he mused.

“This on the other hand.” The man continued, this time holding up a see though little plastic bag of colourful pills. Bobby did not let it go, he had no intention to let Dean near this stuff again. “This stops now.” He told him firmly but making a conscious effort to keep his voice low.

Dean stared at the pills, flooded with the memories, a lack of memories of taking them, what happened to make him think it was a good idea and what kept happening to make him go back to it.

“Okay.” He said as he swallow a little more food his stomach starting to protest.

“I understand why, but no more.”

“Okay.” Dean repeated fork back on the table as he eyes the rest of the food in front of him and began poking the slice of pie with a knife. Face grimacing slightly at the thought of eating it, Bobby watched in silence for a moment, shocked at the boy’s reaction to his once favourite food. The man was convinced that if Dean could only eat a small amount then he would at least eat the pie. It was his safety food but Dean didn’t seem to even entertain the idea of consuming it. It made him unsettled to see but he didn’t want to bring it up just yet, so instead he cleared his throat and turned back to the matter at hand. Looking at the small collection of pills in his hand, he realised that he wasn’t sure what they were, he hadn’t seen any quite like this in his time, and it made him feel old.

“What is this anyway?” Bobby asked looking at the pills in front of him and not at the boy who just physically push the pie way from him slightly.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, eyes down and shoulder’s now stiff at the conversation he began picking that the fries in front of him.

“What?” he must have misheard he told himself.

“It made me not care and it numbs the pain, that’s all I care about.” He told the man as he look a swig of his juice.

“I’m going to throw this away.”

“Okay.” And he did straight in the sink, water washing it down.

“The police will be here tomorrow.” He informed the boy who instantly froze on hearing the news.

“No.” Dean had stopped eating completely now not even picking at the fries, he was back to staring at the pie in front of him with no intention of eating it, almost like he was trying to will himself into wanting it.

“Yes Dean, this needs to be done.”

“No it doesn’t, you said yourself that it’s over. It doesn’t matter anymore.” A few silent tears fell down his cheeks.

“Dean,” Bobby started as he stepped towards the boy with a heavy but determined heart.

“I’m full.” He announced, on his feet in an instant removing himself from the situation as quickly as he could. He grabbed the packet of smokes and his lighter and made his way out of the kitchen and out of the front door leaving Bobby calling his name.

Dean’s heart was pounding, hard and fast. He could feel his pulse in his temples. The boy stopped still when he left the house and stood on the porch and stared out to the junkyard. He let out a breath he was holding since he left the kitchen, bracing himself for the possibility of Bobby following him, anger in his eyes. It was silly to think Dean realised when the cool air hit his face breaking him out of his trance.

The boy suddenly felt shame and guilt for expecting and fearing such things. Bobby was a good man. He lowered himself down into the top porch step the movement and position pulled his injuries, the young boy winced slightly but managed to hold most of his reactions from the pain back and hidden from view. Dean took out a cigarette, placed it between his dry, chapped and slightly bruised lips. 

Dean was half way through his second when he heard the front door opened.

“Here.” Bobby handed over a small and slightly chipped glass, it had seen better days and almost looked like a dessert glass. Dean took it gently. Eyebrows drawn in confusion. “For the ash and butts when you’re done.” Dean nodded and was joined on the step by the man. “I’ll pick you up a proper ash tray in the next few days.”

“Thank you.” Dean wasn’t sure what else to say. Bobby didn’t have to do any of this, he didn’t have to supply an ashtray, let him smoke on the property, hell, he didn’t even have to open the door for him. Dean was more than grateful he did though.

The two sat in silence for a little while. Both staring at a bird that landed on the roof of one of the written off cars around 10 metres from them. The bird jumped up and down the roof and pecked at the metal a few times before, its wings opened and it flew into the sky and away from them. Dean sighed, if only. He hated the idea of flying itself, the concept though, sounded magical.

“I’m scared.” Dean admitted staring at the last place he saw the bird in the sky, whilst taking another drag of his cigarette. “I’m scared Bobby. I know I’m safe here. I know you won’t hurt me. But I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” “I’m waiting for him to turn up, I’m waiting to either wake up or sober up and for me to realise that, none of his has happened. That you are still just a memory and so, so far away. And I’m still in hell.” Dean didn’t have the strength to fight the tears. Bobby wanted to comfort him, he wanted to help him and make him feel better. But what was there to say? How much can words help at this point Bobby wondered. Instead Bobby picked up Dean’s packet, took two cigarettes out, light them both before handing one to Dean and taking a drag of the other.

“What?” Bobby asked when he saw the look of shook dean gave him. “It’s been years but I’m not gonna let you smoke alone at a time like this.” Dean continued to stare, “Because you’re not. You’re not alone. You have me. Sam will be back from school soon. I have a feeling he won’t ever let you more than 10 feet away from him for rest of his life and Cas. Well, you have Castiel. I don’t think you could ever lose that boy, even if you tried.” They lulled into a more comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I will think about the police.” And Bobby could not ask for more than that.


	26. Chapter 26

Sam came home after school before long. Dean looked at the time when Bobby told him he was on his way. He realised that it was later than what he remembered was normal for coming back from school. Sam was told to stay away for a while he reasoned.

“Just until you settled in a little bit.” Pete told him and joined him on the sofa. Dean had to fight of the urge to blush upon realising he spoke his thoughts out loud. It was a habit he had gotten into during his time on the street. Speaking words out loud instead of in his head made him feel a little less lonely, it was not like there was any one to hear him before now. Now it was something he had to work on. 

Both Pete and Tom had risen from their rest, both looking more alert after a few hours sleep.

“Didn’t want to pile too much on you too soon.” Tom commented from where he was leaning against the wall with a coffee in this hand.

“And what about,” Dean began, he cut himself short he didn’t think he could ask the question and he didn’t think he could hear the answer.

“Cas will be here too son.” Bobby told him, knowing, of course knowing. Both Pete and Tom frowned upon hearing his words.

“Cas?” Pete asked

“Dean’s boyfriend.” Bobby informed them before Dean could say anything, he felt himself frown, he wasn’t sure that was the word he would have used to describe Cas, how would be describe him? Dean pushed all thoughts down and locked them away as best he could before he started to freak himself out. Before he could think too much about what they were now after such distance for so long. When Bobby words really sunk he thought, despite everything, despite the sweaty palms and fastening pulse at the idea of seeing Cas again, the idea of it, of hearing Bobby referring to him as his boyfriend painted a small smile on his face.

“So that’s why you called yourself Cas.” Tom said quietly.

“Don’t. Don’t tell anyone that.” Dean told then, well, he begged. The men in the room nodded and no one spoke of it again. At least not to, or in front of him. That was enough for him.

Dean heard the sound of a car pull up and was on his feet instantly. He cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his jeans and swayed from foot to foot. He was an embodiment nervous energy. What if Sam hated him? What is Sam didn’t recognise him? What if he didn’t care about him anymore? What if he blamed him? Oh god Dean thought, he felt sick.

“Dean!” Dean was snapped out of his fretting and horrible thoughts by someone shouting his name. Not in anger or hatred but in excitement. Dean was brought back to the room, his eyes refocused. He just had enough time to see his baby brother about a metre away from him before he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

Bone crushing was a good name for it, the boy felt his injuries scream at him and his joints creak. He tried to hide the pain, he tried to just enjoy the fact that he was seeing his brother again, his baby brother, his Sammy. He was in front of him again. He couldn’t stop the wince of pain however and in an instant the embrace was over, Sam had pulled back as if burnt.

“I’m sorry.” Sam told him, eyes watery and scanning over his brother from head to toe.

The biggest smile Dean could remember possessing stretched across his face. His brother was here, he was taller than he remembered, hair a little longer but it was him.

“Heya Sammy.” Dean couldn’t stop the tears, neither could anyone in the room. Dean reached out and encased Sam’s face with his hands. “Sam.” He mumbled.

Before anyone could say anything else the two brothers had their arms wrapped around each other, they lowered themselves to their knees, both wept as they clung to each other. Neither of the boys or anyone in the room spoke for a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re back.” Sam finally spoke, voice muffled by Dean’s shoulder and uneven due to the tears he was choking out. “I missed you so much. What if,” 

“Shh.” Dean soothing his brother, “I’m okay, everything is okay Sammy. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere again.”

Sam pulled away, a watery smile across his face. He stood and helped his brother do the same.

“You better not.”

“I promise.” Dean told him, hand again on his brothers wet, heated cheek.

“I’m not the only one you need to promise.” Sam told him brother, eyes flickering to the door. Dean’s eyes followed his brother’s. There he was. Castiel. Dean stood frozen in shook for a few seconds, unable to move, or speak, or really process who he was looking at. 

Castiel was standing against the still open front door, arms rigid by his sides, face blank and eyes dark, the only indication of how he felt was the silent tears that had started to fall down his cheeks.

Dean carefully rose to his feet, eyes never once leaving the boy’ in front of him. He stepped around his brother, giving the boy’s shoulder a squeeze as he did. He made his way over to the boy he loved, the boy he had to say goodbye too, the boy he didn’t think he would see again. With each step forward Dean’s hand shook a little more, and Cas’ breath became more ragged.

“Cas,” he breathed out “I can’t believe you’re here.” Cas responded by silently reaching out, he skimmed over Dean’s face with his fingertips without a word, whilst his mouth was open, eyes wet. Dean closed his eyes at the contact, warm fingers ran over his; lips, forehead, nose and cheek. Before the boy rested his whole hand again the boy’s cheek, Dean leant into the touch.

“I could say the same to you.” Cas replied, voice low and uneven. Dean eyes flew open when a force on his shoulder knocked him back a few steps. Cas had shoved him. Dean regained his balance and looked to Cas in shock. “I lost you. I grieved you Dean!” Tears started to fall freely “I grieved you.” he wiped his tears away roughly, Dean stood frozen and listened. “I thought you were, I thought you,”

“So did I Cas. Every time I fell asleep I thought, is this the night? Is this the night I die? I didn’t really care anymore, the only thing that kept me fighting was the promise I made I you, I promised you I would return, I closed my eyes and I saw your face and it made me get up each morning.” Dean tried to take a step forward but Cas’ arms outstretched and stopped him.

“Every time I closed mine, I saw you lying in a pile of blood.” Cas told him, eyes to the ceiling and tear stained his face.

“Cas.” Came a voice from across the room, reminding him they were not alone. Dean held up a hand to signal his brother but didn’t remove his gaze from the boy in front of him.

“It’s okay Sam. Someone has to say it. I scared you, all of you. I can’t expect you guys not to be angry at me. I can’t expect you guys not to hate me.” Cas frowned and shoved Dean’s shoulder again, a little harder this time.

“Is that what you think?” Cas took a step forward “That I hate you?” Dean couldn’t remember ever hearing Cas raise his voice, hearing it now turned his blood cold, he even flinched when Cas raised his arms, something that instantly filled him with shame. It was something that Cas noticed, it made him pause his movements. What made Dean’s shame worse was the passion in Cas’ eyes ebbed away little before he continued. “I love you Dean. So much.” Cas closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the boy in front of him. Dean’s heart stuttered when he felt Cas’ arms around him once more. It was something he had thought about, dreamt about from the moment he left. Unlike Sam, Cas didn’t stop when Dean winced in pain, if anything he squeezed harder, Dean matched it. They stood there desperately grasping at each other like a life line, as if terrified one was about to disappear.

“Cas.” Dean started, but without a word Cas let his arms drop, letting Dean go and turned to make his way up the stairs.

Dean called out but got no reply. The boy turned to follow only for Bobby to gently grasp his shoulder.

“Let him go son. He needs to process. He’s been through hell as well.” Dean looked to Bobby then to the stairs.

“Where is he going?”

“Probably to his room.” His room? Dean thought, what? “He’ll be down soon.”

“His room?” Dean asked, he felt like he missed something pretty big.

“A lot has happened.” Bobby told him before leaving his side to make a round of coffee for everyone, except Sam, who got juice. Dean sat gingerly on the couch, stared at his hands and went through the interaction in his head many times. Sam came to sit beside him, and Dean rested his head on his baby brother’s shoulder, needing the comfort it would give.

“Tell me.” He gently told Bobby after he and the other hunters in the room had a coffee in hand. Bobby took a few sips before he answered.

“He will when he calms down, but I need you to know that he was right, he doesn’t hate you. He might hate the situation, might hate John, but never you.” Sam’s hand was now encasing his brothers, whos were shaking at Bobby’s words. “He is happy you are back. That’s more emotion I have seen him show in weeks.” Dean nodded, he was at a loss of what to say to that. He had been so focused on his own survival, on his own suffering he hadn’t thought just how much others had suffered too. He needed to know everything. He needed to hear it from Cas. But Cas was upstairs because apparently he lived here now, Dean was confused. He stood, took his coffee to the porch outside to light up a cigarette.


	27. Chapter 27

Dean was a mixture of emotions he felt dizzy with them. the boy was beyond happy he was back, beyond relieved to get away from John and the life he had but despite himself, he was dreading going back into the house. He was dreading the looks he kept receiving from everyone. He knew hearing what had happened to Castiel would made him cry and give him even more guilt then he was already feeling. The thought of seeing bright eyes and Sam again gave him more anxiety than he expected. The thought of picking up and rebuilding their relationship was beyond terrifying. Dean sat outside trying to sift through all his thoughts whirling around in his head, until the remains of his coffee was cold and this packet was four cigarettes lighter. 

Dean sighed, he was not a victim he told himself, and he was not a coward. Slowly he got to his feet, using the pain that shot through his body at the movement as an anchor before he gingerly and quietly made his way back into the house.

Dean made his way into the living room, he caught the last dregs of the conversation before silence filled the room. He heard Bobby say ‘and don’t mention the smoking.’ Dean loved Bobby for that, though he hated thinking of what else they were saying in his absence. All eyes watching him make his way over and gently sat himself down on the couch, he tried hard not to wince. He was unsuccessful.

“So catch me up.” Dean said looking to his baby brother next to him. “Where do you go to school, how is it going? Tell me everything.”

Dean sat silently as he listened to his brother gush about how he now lives with Bobby and goes to the local school. He brushed over quickly the custody fight and legal issues they encountered after John reappeared and very publicly beat and kidnapped his eldest son, leaving his youngest behind. The boy briefly mentioned about having to move school again, though it seemed to work out though Dean thought. Sam looked happy, content. Dean listened to his brother talk of his new school, of the students and teachers, ones he liked and ones he did not. He listened as his brother spoke of the friends he had made and the plans they had made for the weekend.

Dean listened with a heavy but full heart. Dean carefully took in each and every word his brother spoke. Sam could have spoken about anything and it wouldn’t have mattered. He just cared about hearing his brothers voice again, seeing his baby brothers face, seeing his smile, Dean couldn’t stop the smile from creeping across his face as he looked at his brothers relaxed mannerisms, his comfortable and happy body language, he was proud of his brother.

Sam was in the middle of explaining to his brother how his driving lessons were going when the door opened quietly and there was slight movement in the corner or Dean’s eye. The boy looked over, and his eyebrows raised when he saw bright eyes enter the room. He wore red and black checked pyjama pants, a baggy black t shirt, messy hair and tired, red rimmed eyes. Dean watched as Cas settled on the couch next to him, he shot a small smile to Dean and like everyone else in the room continued to listen to Sam speak about his life. 

Dean had his left arm around Sam’s shoulders as he listened, Dean had placed his right arm by his side. Somewhere in between Sam naming his classes on Monday and telling Dean about a party he was invited to, the boy felt something warm and soft grasp his hand. He looked over, Cas was sitting next to him, one arm wrapped around his shins, legs pulled up, chin and cheek resting on his knees, face away from Dean and staring at the wall. Dean looked down at their hands and entwined their fingers before giving the hand a squeeze.

“And you Dean, what happened to you?” Sam asked after he finished his story all heads, including Cas’ turned to look at him. Every person in the room now on the edge of their seat for Dean’s answer.  
“Many things. None of them we should dwell on now.” Dean told his brother but by extension the room. Sam turned and rested his head on his brother’s chest, his big brother slowly running his fingers through his hair, a way of comforting both parties.

“Please Dean, it drove me, all of us crazy not knowing what had happened to you, please tell me.”

“Sam, give him time.” Cas told the boy, he squeezed Dean’s hand before letting go. “You will tell us Dean, eventually.” He told the boy as he got to his feet. “No one’s going anywhere.” Dean watched in silence as the boy before him leant forward and placed a gentle, soft kiss to his forehead. “When you are ready, you can tell us, I will be here to listen.” Despite himself, it took every piece of strength in him, not to flinch away from Cas’ loving touch. He felt sick and shameful that he felt the need to shy away from it. The warmth the gesture gave him however was something the boy had forgotten he could feel. He found he could not reply, so nodded as he watched the boy make his way into the kitchen.

“Go after him boy.” Bobby told him from across the room. Dean looked from Bobby, to his saviours to his brother, all of which nodded and smiled to him.

Dean got to his feet, wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way into the kitchen. He found bright eyes, sat at the table nursing a coffee and seemingly waiting for him. He took a seat next to the boy and sat patiently until bright eyes was ready.

“I know about you Dean, about Sam and Bobby, about those two men in there. I know what you do and what you hunt.” Dean’s blood ran cold, he darted his eyes to the table, not wanting to look up to find disgust in the eyes in the one person he couldn’t bear to see it in.

“How?” He mumbled, throat dried and he was barely able to get out the word.

“A demon possessed my mom.” Dean’s eyes shot to Cas’ he was not expecting that, not even close. What could he say to that, what could anyone say to that. He was right all along, he really did ruin Cas’ life. The boy found that he could not keep eye contact with bright eyes, it hurt too much. “It had her for two months.”

“I’m so sorry Cas.” Dean mumbled, staring at his twitching fingers that they ran over each other, an anxious tick Dean had picked up.

“Not everything is your fault Dean.” Cas told him and gently placed a hand over Dean’s, instantly stilling his movements. They sat in silence for a few beats, Dean gently running his thumb against Cas’ hand.

“What happened?” Dean asked his small voice tentatively filling the air. Cas squeezed the boy’s hand a little, as he let out a humourless laugh.

“After that terrifying phone call we had, I lasted a day and a half, until I got your postcard so I knew where you where, then I left. I went looking for you.” the bottom of Dean’s stomach fell out from under him. “I was so worried John had killed you or abandoned you.” Cas’ voice was flat and steady, almost cold. It hurt to hear his Cas speaking for robotically, like he had repeated these words to himself so many times, the meaning was lost.

“I’m so,”

“Don’t,” Cas interrupted a hand In the air, palm outstretched, “Don’t apologise Dean.” The boy lowered his hand took hold of Dean’s once more. “Obviously I couldn’t find you. When I got back, my mum she, she noticed I was gone for a day, I was gone for three weeks.” That humourless laugh was back, all Dean could do was sit and listen, unable to force his body to move even an inch. Dean thought for a second that if he ended up in hell, which after the life he has lead so far he would put money on it, this would be his eternal torment. Being frozen in place and forced to listen to how those he loves are hurting and how he is responsible for their suffering. Because this right now it hurt Dean more than any of his physical injuries, listening to Cas’ was tearing his heat apart. “A little while after that, my mum became possessed. The only thing that really changed was that she started to smile. I remember when I was a kid she smiled all the time, this smile was not like that it was evil, like she was so happy at the thought of causing me pain. After two months Bobby kicked my door in and exorcised my mum. I didn’t even notice a difference in her behaviour, she was as sadistic as ever. At first I thought he came to kill her, I sat there and watched didn’t even move to try and save her.” Dean couldn’t help the shocked involuntary squeeze he gave Cas’ hand. “I know that sounds awful, but she had just finished listing all the way I was responsible for my father killing himself and how I should join him as she beat me bloody, that I just didn’t care anymore. After everything. I emancipated myself, moved out and ended up here.”

It took a few beats of silence but eventually Dean lifted his eyes and looked to Cas. What he found there was not the blame and anger he was expecting, it was relief. They shared a watery smile before they rested their foreheads together.

“And your mum?” Dean asked, not 100% sure if he wanted to know.

“Prison.” Cas reply, as he got up and started to make more coffee “and don’t say you’re sorry. I’m not. It didn’t take her being possessed to become something evil. Her getting possessed is the best thing that has happened to me.” Dean watched as the boy stopped and slowly turned to face him, a soft gently smile in place. “Second best, now you’re back.”

“The police are coming to talk to me tomorrow.”

“Good.” He told him, making his way back to the table, on his way Cas glanced into the living room, everyone was still there, a little closer to the door way, obviously listening in. “Do you want me with you?” Cas asked as he perched on the table near Dean and handed the boy another cup of coffee.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” Dean mumbled into the cup as he took a sip, not wanting this conversation again.

“Yes, you can.” No confusion, and no room for argument. Dean heard the surety in his voice and even started to believe him too. “It’s the right thing to do. I’ll be by your side.”

“Okay.” Is all Dean could respond with, and just like that he agreed, just like that a huge grin broke out across Cas’ face. It took Dean right back to when him and Cas were sharing fries at the diner and walking down the school corridors together. Dean smiled back, felt warm all over, felt safe for the first time in the longest time. He looked up to the familiar blue eyes, he had dreamt of for so long. He was home. 

The young broken boy wrapped his arms around the boy that was also a little broken and twisted, and buried his face into Cas’ chest. Cas in turn wrapped his around him, and placed a kiss to the top of his head. They rocked gently and cried together.


	28. Chapter 28

The next morning Dean made his way to the kitchen and helped himself to coffee. After hours of tossing and turning he had finally managed to drift off into a light sleep for a couple hours, but his dreams had woken him up in a cold sweat. 

The strange newness of the room he was given made the boy uneasy. He found that lying in bed for a few moments after waking that he simply couldn’t stay in there. Dean saw John’s face in every shadow that littered the room, so he left to settle in the kitchen with a coffee, knowing he wouldn’t sleep again. 

The boy opened the back door and perched in the doorway as he smoked, rapidly, one after the other in an attempt to calm his mind and rabbiting heart. It was morning but the sun had yet to rise, the house was silent despite it being full and in his head he heard John screaming. 

The boy hated this time of the day, night time he was good at, it was always well lit and full of people milling around they were either like him, selling, or they were like minded in buying, well, renting. It was when he had finished, when the curb crawlers went back to their families, to their wives, to their parents, and they got on with their lives, their jobs, with no one any the wiser. When the other whores had either passed out from exhaustion, from a beating or with help from a pill, and Dean was left alone in the silent darkness. That was always the worst part. He had no one to deflect too, he had no one to forget the world with, there was just him. 

It was times like these that he was reminded that he was not enough. This was when the boy needed a bit of help to relax, to calm down, to slow down his mind. The cigarettes helped a little but were simply not effective enough. The liquor cabinet in Bobby’s living room flashed through his mind. He couldn’t. he has done a lot of things, things he was ashamed off, he has yet to refuse a drag or a pill, if he knew what it was or not, but he had yet to have even a sip of alcohol. The image of the cabinet left his head as quickly as it entered and was replaced with memories of John. Of his sullen eyes, his sweat slick hair and vomit stained clothes, the boy could almost smell his father’s stench from where he stood staring into the darkness, cigarette nested loosely in-between his fingers. 

The boy regretted letting Bobby take his pills, he regretted promising the man that he wouldn’t do it anymore. He knew that if he didn’t have his word hanging over his head he would have made his way into town and scored something already. He knew the tells, the best places to go, it would have been extremely easy. Alas he had promised Bobby and he had no intention of breaking a promise to the one man that he could trust. The only man that had ever earned the title of father from him but never gifted with it, Dean felt like shit again.

Dean shifted on his feet, gently placing his empty mug on the ground. He couldn’t get John’s eyes from his head, he couldn’t stopped his voice in his head, insults and threats he had heard hundreds of times were on repeat running through his mind, giving him no reprieve from the onslaught of verbal abuse. He just needed it to silence, just for a few hours. Sleep was too much to ask for but if he could only relax and rest for a few hours before everyone started stirring he could face the day stronger.

Dean remembered all of a sudden what he was going to have to do come the morning. Talk. Police were coming. He was going to have to tell his story. His fucked up, depraved story and everyone would know how disgusting and pathetic he was. It was the thought of looks of pity and horror, that drove Dean without thought to push up his sleeve to reveal deep red lines of sore skin and dry scabs. Before Dean’s mind caught up with his actions he pushed his cigarette into his skin, searing the skin and making the boy gasp and choke in pain. He was brought back to reality, eyes now on his arm. It worked, as always. 

Dean got up without any more reaction to what he had done and poured another mug of coffee. He sat down on the door step and lit another cigarette, he drank and smoked in silence. The screams and insults in his head were muted, instead and instead Dean’s arm pounded heat and pain throughout his body. Dean hurt himself, it was something else to check of the list, something else he needed to be ashamed off, something else he used like a crutch to help him survive. Dean didn’t do it too often, they left marks on his body, he created obvious and visible weak spots and everyone in his life, not just John, took advantage of that. In his street fights, as he turned tricks, when someone wanted something from him or didn’t want to pay, an obvious injury was not an ideal situation. So it was not something Dean did a lot, instead favouring to taking to weed and various pills to numb the pain and silence his mind, but sometimes when he was desperate, pain worked just as well if not better than any pill.

Dean waited 4 hours for somebody other than him to be awake. The whole time Dean stared into the slowly lightening sky, smoked and drank coffee and stubbed every few cigarettes out on his arm.  
It was his first night away from John, the boy thought he needed something to help him through, he wasn’t hurting anyone important, only himself. After an hour Dean ran out of cigarettes and had to go into Bobby’s draw for a fresh pack, something the man had informed him of earlier. Dean had no words when he told him. He knew Bobby didn’t approve of his smoking, he knew he didn’t want to see the boy he loved like a son smoke but he still brought him a few packs of cigarettes. 

He knew that Dean would need time to open up and to return to the boy he was before. If it was even possible Dean was unsure, didn’t think he could ever go back, but he owed it to them to try, he owed it to himself. He just needed time.

Slowly but surely the house became alive, before he knew it he was surrounded by people eating breakfast, no not people. Family. The nerves of what he knew was coming made his already measly appetite to abandon him. He was certain that forcing some food down would make him sick at this point so he sat nursing a glass of water as his leg bounced quickly under the table, as he waited for everyone to be done, silently taking in the warm energy of those around him. 

Dean saw movement out the corner of his eye, very slowly Cas’ hand edged towards Dean’s that was resting on the table. The action made Dean’s heart swell and a small smile to appear on his face. The boy next to him had given him plenty of time to either deny the coming touch or prepare for it. Before long Dean watched Cas’ hand gently rest on top of his.

Dean found himself at the table in Bobby’s kitchen, it was time Dean thought feeling of dread in his stomach. Cas was sat on one side of him holding his hand tightly and rubbing his thumb across this loves heated skin, his baby brother was on the other side, one arm stretched and perched on the back of Dean’s chair, giving his big brother a sense of comfort and support. Bobby, Tom and Pete were also in the room, leaning against the walls or counters, all three tense and ready to defend or attack, whatever came first. They were facing two agents who had just arrived and where taking out some files and papers. They were here, ready to listen to Dean’s story and ask their questions.

“It’s good to see you again Dean.” Agent Wrung told him, her voice as motherly as he remembered.

Dean was staring at his and Cas’ entwined hands on the table unable and unwilling to meet the two’s eyes. The silence that stretched on was awkward and painful.  
“Perhaps you will find this easier if we were alone Dean.” Agent Wilson commented, once they had set up for the interview.

“We’re not going anywhere sunshine.” Tom snarled back at the man at least 10 years his junior.

“I’m sorry but who are you two gentlemen?” Wilson asked, annoyance clear but professionalism winning through in his tone.

“We did what you two should have done!” Tom shouted back stepping forward, face red in anger.

“We brought him home.” Pete added, voice low and dangerous. “We got him out.” No one apart him Pete and Tom saw Dean on the streets, they saw him high and turning tricks, covered in bruises and broken bones. They didn’t even know the kid then and they were compelled to help, now? Thinking of him like that, forced into that life, living in pain and fear, filled them both with such anger that if they ever had the chance, they could happily kill John themselves.

“I’m sure everyone is very thankful for that sir, but as you are not family I have to insist,” Was he serious?! The men thought, Bobby grasped their shoulders in a silent warning. Before anything could escalate Dean spoke, eyes trained on the table and not looking at anyone.

“They stay.” Voice surprising everyone, it wasn’t a meek and hesitant as they had started to expect from the boy.

“Dean,” Wrung started but Dean cut her off. He didn’t want to hear it. He had been through hell, he was about to go through it again by saying it all out loud, he refused to do it twice.

“They stay.” He looked around the room; to the men he owes his life too, the men that gave him the courage to take the first step. To Bobby the man more like a father than his own, that despite everything took him in and accepted him to questions asked. To Sam, his Sammy, his baby brother he taught to walk, to speak, taught right from wrong and almost, died to protect, the boy that was growing more into a man every day, the boy that didn’t need a protector anymore, didn’t need Dean as he always was, he just needed a brother, maybe Dean thought, maybe he was enough for the role. To Cas. Cas, Castiel, Bright eyes, he didn’t realise a tear had fallen down his cheek until Cas wiped it off his face for him, until Cas’ eyes turned soft and supportive, he felt the boy gently squeeze his hand in silent support, in doing so also squeezed his heart. I am never leaving you again, Dean thought to himself and turned back to the agents who were patiently waiting for him. “Everyone in this room deserves an explanation. I don’t have it in me to explain it twice.”

“Very well Dean.” Wrung told him.

His leg was bouncing on its own volition as the boy shook his head and tried to blink away the images of his father that started to flash in his mind. The threats John would snarl at him of all the horrible things that would happen to him and those he loved if he left and told anyone. Dean grasped his forearm, squeezed the fresh burns on his skin, using the pain to ground him to this albeit terrifying moment. He was ready, he told himself again.

“I’m ready.” 

Dean watched the two agents uncap their pens, click a few things on their laptops and open a few of the several files in front of them. Dean took a shuddering breath, it was time he thought to himself.


End file.
